


Collision Part III: Gravity Pull

by starkind



Series: The Collision Tetralogy [3]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DC Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Deviates From Canon, Difficult Decisions, Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremis, F/M, Gen, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Hurt Tony Stark, Language, Love Triangles, Multi, Rare Pairings, Romantic Friendship, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 81,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkind/pseuds/starkind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was not supposed to be this hard. For none of them.<br/>There had been a line once; firm, solid. Until it became jagged. And crossed.<br/>And all of them had to find out how desperate times called for desperate measures. </p><p>AU crossover fic, set around (some of) the events during/after IM3 and TDKR.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to the third part. It will include a couple of original quotes/scenes from both Iron Man 3 and The Dark Knight Rises; not because I'm too lazy to think of something myself (ha!), but because the challenge was to stick close to canon - with a twist. 
> 
> Anything you recognize belongs to either Marvel or DC (or as otherwise stated); I'm simply borrowing for entertainment purposes and without any intentions of copyright infringement. In other words: Please don't sue me, there's a reason poor me only writes about billionaires!

Malibu, November 2010  
  
  
_There is darkness all around him. A deathly, sickening silence engulfs him, except for the beeping and blinking of the HUD._

“ _Incoming call with an unknown number, Sir.”_  
_Blood rushes in his ears and the smell of sweat nearly burns his nostrils.  
_ “ _Put it through.”_

“ _Tony! You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into! Let go of the damn thing as long as it’s not too late and get out of there, I beg you!”_

_The nuke slips from his arms towards the mother ship that glows in bright blue colors; beautiful but harboring death. He blinks as his screens go dark and Jarvis fades into nothingness. Her voice echoes in his mind and his brain seems to chant on in a monotone rhythm:_

_‘Do it for them. Do it for her, for her, for her...’_

_“TONYYYYY!”_

_Soundless explosions. Then he is falling._  
_The wormhole underneath wants to swallow him, wants to keep him here; away from earth and the ones he loves and protects._

 _Panic arises as he tries to breathe, but feels like there is hardly enough oxygen left._  
_Through the suffocating silence, he sees some grotesque Chitauri faces flash before his eyes._  
_The earth is so far away now. It’s becoming smaller and smaller and he claws at the rim of the galaxy, frantic._

_The suit’s gauntlets start to crumble and fall off his fingers one by one, leaving them numb and frozen in space. Bit by bit the suit starts to disintegrate as well, leaving him vulnerable, freezing (or burning up?) and he opens his mouth to scream but no sounds come out..._

With a start, Tony jerked into wide awareness.  
His eyes darted around the dark of the bedroom as his heart pounded hard against his ribcage.  
“Lights!”

His AI complied without hesitation, and plunged the room into soft illumination. Tony turned onto his back and rubbed his face with shaky hands. Shivers ran through his whole body while he tried to fight them down and evened out the breath that was hitching in his throat. “Jarvis check my vitals... something is wrong. I’m...”

His voice, high-pitched and rough with sleep at the same time, sounded unfamiliar to his ears. He continued to gasp for air and curled himself up on his left side to stare at the tinted window panes. As if on cue, Jarvis lightened them up for his creator to be able to look at the peaceful ocean scenery outside. “Sir, all of your vital functions are intact. I suggest proper treatment if these panic attacks become more frequent and severe.”

The billionaire stared out into the not yet dawn of the day before he pulled the blankets aside with one swift movement. He swung his legs over the rim of the mattress and grabbed the cognition headset from his nightstand. “Yeah whatever. In the meantime, I'm in the shop. Best treatment there is right now."

Dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a wifebeater, Tony shuffled downstairs and started to tinker until morning rolled around. Light-headed and dizzy from hunger and little sleep, it did not take him long to fall into a light slumber on the old leather couch.

 _They are coming for him._  
_He can almost feel their breaths on his neck - a putrid, penetrating stench._  
_His suit has evaporated, useless, and he feels exposed and defenseless._

_Bony, non-humanoid claws reach out for him. He squirms to avoid contact but they are unavoidably coming near. His skin tingles with the imminent danger right behind him and in a last heroic stance of defense he swings around, fists up, and ready to face his attackers - because, damn it, he is Iron Man, with suit or without - and…_

After he almost fell off the sofa in an attempt to dodge the death-like grip of the Chitauri soldiers in his sleep, Tony gave a frustrated punch to the backrest and stood up. He paced to and fro in the shop before coming to a standstill in front of his mainframe. With shaking fingers he grasped for a sleek, cognitive headset and fumbled around with the interface visor until he had adjusted it in front of his left eye.

"J, can you... call Pepper's mobile? Or better yet: Send her a message to call me." 

"Of course, Sir. Do you have any preferred text in mind?"

Tony wandered over to the battered, wooden dummy in the corner and did a short series of Wing Chun exercises.

"Call me if convenient. If inconvenient call all the same."

"Famous last words, Sir?"

The inventor harrumphed at his AI and attacked the tree pole once more. He had started to amp up his workout routine after the incident at Wayne Manor to cope with his growing anxiety attacks; not because he thought he could compete with Bruce Wayne on a physical level. If Tony was honest with himself, he figured the Gothamite might come close to giving Captain America a run for his money in the muscle department.

Tony chose to console himself in thinking Wayne was just all brawn and no brains, so very much unlike him. However the odds, he still wanted to be able to outsmart the bastard, should he try to punch him ever again. And Wing Chun had been his forte for years. Then Jarvis interrupted his fleeting thoughts.

"Your message was sent to Miss Potts' mobile device."

"Good. Let's try another round. Gauntlets first. And be gentle, not like last time. I wanna keep my balls, okay?”

With a thumbs up, Tony got into position and recorded the latest test run of his secret, long-term experiment.

***

Gotham City, November 2010

The small bleep cut through the silence of the dining room at Wayne Manor.

Pepper cast a furtive look over to where Bruce sat, at the other end of the long table, hidden behind The Gotham Times. He did not make a move to indicate he had noticed, and the young woman gave a quiet sigh before she got back to eating her breakfast on yet another dull and gray Wednesday morning.

“Why don’t you check who’s been texting you?”

With a sharp rustle, Bruce Wayne folded the newspaper, and Pepper looked up into his astute countenance. She watched him reach out for his cup of coffee whilst never once breaking eye contact with her. It took a lot of self control not to waver underneath his scrutiny, but she managed. Pepper shook her head and tried to appear peaceable and carefree.

“I think it can wait - whoever it is.”

The porcelain saucer clattered as Bruce put down the fine china and rose from the table.  
With a deft movement, he slapped the folded newspaper next to his finished plate.  
Pepper flinched at the sound, but remained seated.

After a short moment, which he always needed to adjust his bad leg, Bruce moved to get up.  
He leaned on the expensive cane in his right hand, until he came to stand in front of her.  
The fingers of his left then reached out to trace her temple.

“That so, my darling?”

The redhead locked eyes with him, unsure how to respond.  
When she allowed a small smile upon her lips, Bruce’s thumb moved over to trace them.  
His eyes remained cold and detached.

“I might be long tonight, so don’t bother waiting up. Have a nice day, Pepper.”  
With no kiss goodbye Bruce turned and left; his dignified steps those of a man twice his age.  
The piercing sound of the walking cane on the wooden floor echoed through the large dining room.

Pepper Potts stared after him in sorrow.

Weeks after the housewarming party, Bruce’s leg had become worse, nixing the hopes of a complete, physical recovery. The billionaire failed to see his fault and was torn between depression and aggression. Paired with the frustration about his handicap, their relationship hovered in a limbo state of self-deception ever since. While Bruce never wore heart and feelings on his sleeve, he had shrunken into the dark abyss of his mind even further.

At first, Pepper thought she could get him out of his shell if she tried hard enough, but he never let her close enough. The rift between them had become bigger, despite her tries to regain his trust. The last time they shared the same bed had been at the night of the housewarming party; his lovemaking frantic and frightening, as if to prove a point to both of them. After that, there were only excuses – and silence.

She felt responsible for the incident at the party, and had managed to avoid any kind of contact with Tony Stark or mentioning him around Wayne Manor ever since. With every day Bruce exposed her to his ice-cold behavior however, the young woman became more and more desperate for someone to talk to; someone who understood and who was easy to understand.

She would have poured her heart out to Alfred, but humiliation and fear of the butler taking sides with his lifetime protege prevented her from approaching him. Before Tony’s confession, Pepper would have pegged him to be that person whom she could open up to, but he had changed the whole game on that one, fateful evening. Furthermore, she had not even taken the time to reconsider her own feelings.

The young woman sighed again, allowing the sound to escape her lips, before she too rose from the table; message on her phone forgotten.

***

Bruce made his way over to the east wing and closed the door behind him. He walked over to an ancient piano, pressed a key combination and disappeared behind the bookshelf. The elevator surged and bucked as it made its way down into the darkness of the cave, with its familiar scent of moisture from the dripping, sheer rock walls. Across the slippery surface, the waterfall roared in the background.

When Bruce moved nearer, a large platform rose from underneath the water and a small runway got visible. With grim determination, he limped on. The metal was wet and more than slippery. He made it over safely to stand in front of a huge acrylic glass cabinet. It opened with a swooshing sound and exposed a multitude of monitors and electronic control gear.

The billionaire lowered himself with great effort onto the metallic chair attached to the construction and placed his cane aside. After he had brushed away some water droplets, Bruce’s fingers flew across the keyboard with expertise and the screens filled with police reports, wanted criminals’ lists and newspaper headlines. His biggest fear of the Joker escaping from Arkham Asylum had not proven to become true, but robbery, fraud, assault and battery plagued Gotham anew.

Even though the Batman had been out of the loop since the night the Joker got captured, Bruce felt there was a pattern to all of these; a bigger reason. He worked his way through all the data he could find, until he narrowed his suspicions down to the names of a burglar named Selina Kyle and a terrorist called Bane.

After two and a half hours, he got interrupted.  
“The humidity is not beneficial for your leg, Master Wayne.”  
Bruce did not bother to turn and see his trusted butler walk up to him with a disdained expression on his face.

“Oh, my life is so full of hazard lately, Alfred. All these stairs and slippery floors in the Manor – you see, I practically thrive on the edge of danger every day.”

At his biting sarcasm, Alfred shot him a disapproving glance and stopped at the platform.  
“What you _are_ thriving on at the moment is wallowing in self-pity, Sir.”  
Bruce ground his teeth and swung around to face his employee.

“Then why don’t you go upstairs and leave me alone if my humble self is just too much for you to handle?” The elder man’s countenance never wavered at the malicious undertone, and he raised his chin with dignity. “Maybe it would do you some good to reevaluate your interests and focus on what’s important in your life. This city needs Bruce Wayne, and not the Batman. Those times are over.”

The billionaire pondered those words for a moment before he glared at his butler again.  
“Are you afraid if I go back out there I'll fail, being the cripple I’ve come to be? That it?”  
Alfred Pennyworth clasped his hands behind his back and regarded his angry protege with sad compassion.

“No, that is not it. I am afraid that you _want_ to fail, Sir, because at the moment, you are not living. You are waiting, hoping almost for things to get even worse than they are now. Upstairs is your devastated fiancée, whom you have pushed away by your tormenting memories. When will you stop hurting yourself and the people you love, Master Wayne?”

Bruce slammed his hands down onto the desktop and made the whole construction shake with impact.  
His cane rolled over and toppled to the ground with a clatter.  
“How _dare_ you use Pepper to stop me, Alfred?”

The butler inclined his head and watched the cylindrical object fall off the platform’s edge into the water. He looked at the furious billionaire.

“I am using the truth, Master Wayne. You see only one end to your journey, despite talking about a life beyond that awful cape. And you made Miss Potts believe it as well. She and this city need Bruce Wayne with his resources, his knowledge. If you continue giving Gotham this monster, you will leave me no choice. I am not burying you like the rest of your family.”

Incredulous, Bruce stared at his longtime confidant as the true meaning of the statement hit him.  
“You’re… threatening to leave me?”  
Alfred cast down watery eyes and proceeded to turn around.

“I have sewn you up, I have set your bones but I will not bury you. Leaving will be all I have to make you understand you need to find another way. Your future is now, Master Wayne. Do not waste it.” With these words, the butler made his way back towards the elevator, leaving a baffled young man behind.

When his initial shock had passed, the billionaire continued to peruse his data, mouth set in a grim line. With more anger he thought he possessed, Bruce hobbled over to retrieve another stash of equipment from behind the waterfall, his cane forgotten. Unbeknownst to the people upstairs, Bruce Wayne then started to prepare for the first nightly crusade in months.

Angered at Alfred, his physical condition, and the world’s injustice in general, he let the familiar surge of the Batman’s beast mode pump through his veins. He absorbed the rage to dampen his fears of failure while he reassembled the Batsuit. The inner voice that kept nagging about the senselessness of his actions got silenced when Bruce clasped a prototype metal knee bracket around his skin and hissed at the pain erupting from pierced, sensitive flesh.

After he had been experimenting with the makeshift prosthesis for a couple of weeks, Bruce was positive he had found a way to stabilize his leg for the most part. Even though he knew it was far from being suited for long-term use, he wanted to take it out for a first test run. The pain from the torn ligaments persisted, but he did not mind; a twisted part of him welcomed it as rightful punishment and a reminder for the future.

Once he was back in the suit, every human feeling would be put on the back-burner.  
Only then could he give in to those repressed dark urges that loomed over his mind and soul.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, admittedly there's a (falsified!) Sherlock Holmes quote in this one as well. It's RDJ's Sherlock though, at least..


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado, we are about to officially dive headfirst into trainwreck-territory..

Pepper rested her head against the smooth Alcantara of the Rolls Royce and watched the scenery go by with dull eyes. Her attaché case was in her lap, and she played with the zipper whilst the driver wound his way through the vast suburban area of the Palisades to get her to Midtown Gotham City, like every other working day. Her thoughts strayed back to the conversation with Bruce, and the sadness about it made her remember the origin of their latest verbal exchange.

She dug into her handbag and just stared at the cryptic message from Tony on the screen for a couple of seconds. With a start, Pepper then reached out for the button that raised the partition between her and the driver. About fifteen minutes away from Wayne Tower, Pepper pressed the speed dial button and chewed her bottom lip. Playing with the zipper again eventually caused her to hiss as she tore the nail of her pinkie finger in the process.

“Pepper.”

Years of working with and for Tony told her something was wrong, just by the sheer sound of his voice.  
She heard him inhale and opted for careful optimism.  
“Good morning; here’s your wake-up call.”

When she had to wait quite long for a reply, Pepper pressed the phone closer to her ear.  
Her thumb ran over the slivered nail and felt the rough edge of the small, missing piece.

“Been awake since 3AM. Good thing you called back. I…”  
He paused and breathed down hard.  
“Pep, I’ve got a lot of apologies to make...to you and, well...”

“Tony, if this is because of what happened at the party then please - don’t. A lot of things went wrong that night, so let’s just…”

He cut in sharply. “No! It’s not just that. It’s… geez… nothing's been the same since New York. It’s like you experience things, and then they're over. I can't sleep, Pepper - and when I do, I… have nightmares.” She pressed her lips together in an attempt not to interfere as it broke out of him. As she wondered if Jim and Happy knew about the state Tony was in, his voice interrupted her straying thoughts.

“Honestly Pep, think about it. I'm Tony-fuckin’-Stark. I build neat stuff, got a great life, and occasionally, I save the world. Okay, I mean - yeah, there are probably a hundred-something people who wanna kill me, but you know what? Bring ‘em on - I can take that! But… this situation… goddammit, all I’m thinking about lately is: Why. Can’t. I. Sleep?”

He sounded on the verge of tears, and Pepper swallowed.  
That new side of him scared and troubled her beyond belief.  
“Okay, I… okay. What can I do to help you, Tony?”

She fastened her eyes on a small farmhouse in the distance as her question lingered between them. If Bruce was not about to let her near him for help in the foreseeable future, Pepper Potts would at least not stand aside to watch Tony fall apart. Even if the potential for conflict was extremely high, she was willing to risk the consequences; for him, for them, and for their friendship.

“Can we… can we meet somewhere? Of course I’d pick you up and take you wherever you wanna go. Just to talk. I only want to see you, help me wind down, I… dunno… somethin’ like that.” The little farmhouse disappeared from her view behind a small hill, and Pepper looked down onto her attaché case. Her hesitation made Tony try another strategy.

“Okay, okay, not good. How about I come round to Gotham then? Gonna take the suit, fly under the radar, be inconspicuous. Would that work?” Despite the situation, Pepper had to smile a little. “You and inconspicuous in the same sentence never work, Tony.” She estimated the current situation and came to a conclusion. “Tell you what. Tonight at 7PM. Meet me here at Hotel 71, Michigan Avenue. The penthouse suite. And by all means be inconspicuous, I beg you.”

For the first time since she had called, Tony exhaled with relief.  
“Yeah, sure. Suit it is then. Talk to ya later, Pep… hey, and thanks.”  
The line went dead, and Pepper let her phone sink into her lap.  
  
“Anytime, Tony. Anytime.”

To distract herself from nagging doubts, she unzipped the briefcase and gave the reports for Lucius Fox a final revision as Gotham City’s skyscrapers appeared in the distance.

***

After work, which passed by quicker than she figured, Pepper waved her coworkers goodbye and told her designated chauffeur to drop her off at the Dorsia. She explicitly told the driver she had a spontaneous business meal to attend and would take a cab home later on. The posh restaurant near the apartment complex of Hotel 71 was regularly booked solid, but Pepper and Bruce had eaten there several times already. At some point, the billionaire had even considered to buy it off its owner, after seeing how much Pepper liked the location and the menu.

That time however, she patiently waited in front of the Dorsia until the Royce disappeared from her sight, and made her way over to the tall building around the corner instead. Pepper reprimanded herself to not call it the ‘old’ penthouse suite, as they had just recently moved out of the luxurious abode, which was still a top-notch investment belonging to Bruce. She fumbled for her card keys, slipped into the private elevator and entered the abandoned, dark loft on the 78th  floor.

Pepper refrained from switching on the lights and headed straight for the terrace instead. Tony would locate her via HUD and she did not want Iron Man to wreak havoc on the expensive interior design. Outside, the city lights illuminated the dark sky of Gotham, and a chilly autumn breeze made her shiver. She drew the woolen coat tighter around her slim frame and waited; neck craned up into the night, and eyes eager for any fast moving flash of light.

At 7PM sharp, the object in question appeared in her line of view and described a wide arc as it descended.

Out of habit, Pepper stepped back and watched Iron Man perform a graceful, smooth landing a couple of feet away from her. She marveled at the suit after not having seen it for a very long time, until the faceplate opened with a swoosh. Pepper was instantly taken aback by how gaunt and drawn Tony Stark's face looked. It must have played on her countenance, because the first thing he did was to give her a meager smile.

“That bad, huh? C’mon Potts give me a little credit here, I made it on time and…” he proceeded to look around thoroughly “…very inconspicuous if you ask me.”

Pepper shook herself out of her initial faze and smiled at him as she stepped nearer. "A first for you indeed.” At a loss how to continue, she almost felt awkward. Tony felt it too and glanced around, looking for a way to overcome the moment. “Huh. I imagined Gotham City to be kinda different somehow - darker and more grimy. More ‘Film Noir’ so to speak.”

Grateful for his attempt at small talk, Pepper shook her head and followed his gaze. “It definitely has those places. In a way it’s a bit like New York, or Chicago rather, but a little less… global in a way.” Another wind gust played with the rim of her coat and she felt in need of leaving for shelter. ”But why don’t we go inside where it’s warmer? Can you, uh... dismantle out here?”

His soulful eyes lightened up a little.  
“Watch me.”  
The faceplate slipped shut before the suit gave a slight lurch and its lights went dark.

Like a snake skinning itself, the Mark version began to disassemble off its owner whilst remaining in a standing position, frozen in place, as the billionaire stepped out from behind. Clad in his black undersuit, Tony’s ARC reactor glowed bright blue at her in the dark. Pepper could not help but to whistle in admiration. “Wow, you keep making these better and better. No more parking problems for you.”  
  
At her praise, he broke into a sincere grin and regarded the now lifeless suit full of pride and a trifle of affection. “Told ya I’m working on something big. Mind you, it’s not all I’ve improved but… the other stuff is gonna take a li’l while longer.” He peeked over to the darkened area behind the French window. “What kinda place is this, by the way? Looks deserted.”

Pepper ushered him along to step inside where it was warm, figured the suit was in no danger of being stolen, and closed the door behind them before she slipped out of her coat. “The penthouse suite that served as a second home while the Manor got rebuilt. Just a sec, I’ll switch on the lights.” As she went off to find the remote for the high-end lighting controls of the suite, she heard Tony shuffle over to the couch.

The ARC allowed him to see what was in front, and the leather rustled as he plopped down. With a soft curse the young woman found the item in question nowhere in sight and stumbled her way back over to the blue circle that was the billionaire. “Someone must have misplaced the remote. I can light some candles, or we’ll have to work with your in-build nightlight.”

At his snort about the nightlight comment, Pepper walked around the glass coffee table and fumbled for the electric lighter next to the candle arrangement. Five clicking sounds later, some massive candles idly flickered in the otherwise darkened apartment. The red-haired woman took a seat next to Tony, and both stared ahead at the generous 360 degree view of Gotham by night.

“Not much light, but it will do. Do you want something to drink?” She purposely held her tongue about the romantic touch of the arrangement at hand, and hoped Tony would refrain from suggestive comments as well. His mental health issues seemed severe enough without touching the topic of his feelings; a confession Pepper wished he had left unsaid for the sake of them both.

The couch moved as he shifted. “Nah, I’m good. You sure you’ll not be missed at home tonight?” With a slight snort Pepper leaned back. In an attempt to loosen up her tense body posture she crossed her legs and slid cold palms in between. “Oh, not at all.” She failed to keep the bitterness out of her voice, and dug her fingernails into her thighs, willing herself to stop. Tony, however, had picked up on the undertone.

“Hmm… trouble in paradise?”  
His nonchalant way of asking betrayed the ounce of hope that resonated within his question. Pepper deftly shook her head.  
“This isn’t about me here.”

She looked at his dark silhouette. His face was obscurely tinged into shades of blue from the RT, and his long eyelashes splayed out as he cast a downward stare. “Right. And I know it’s probably not the wisest decision to bother _you_ of all people, but since you’re so used with getting bothered by me… you were my first choice.” Tony cleared his throat and continued to inspect the ground. He rested his arms on his knees and let his hands hang down.

“These nightmares… they all revolve around what happened up there, in space. Each dream ends with me unable to escape the Chitauri, or the wormhole, and I…” His voice hitched ever so slightly, and Pepper watched him wring his hands as he took a deep breath. She removed her meanwhile warmer hand from its position and placed it across his heaving back. The muscles there were taught, as if made of steel, and she rubbed at the tension, trying to ease it away.

“It was a life-changing situation, Tony. You put yourself in unforeseeable danger. But you survived and saved the world. All of us.”

His shaky laugh sounded forced, and he nodded as if he did not trust his voice to give an answer. Tony then blew out his cheeks, sprang up from the couch and paced a couple of steps through the semi-darkness of the living room area. Pepper remained seated but followed him with her eyes. He looked frailer than usual in his neoprene body suit, and she felt for him.

“Have you, you know… considered getting professional help before this gets worse?”  
The billionaire pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger and shook his head.  
“I’d rather not let the whole world know Iron Man’s going bonkers. That’s qualified info too valuable for... anybody.”

When he seemed to have his anxiety fit under control, Tony walked back over to sit next to her. His eyes roamed around her face, until a smile formed on his lips as if he had just solved world’s biggest mysteries in the blink of an eye. “But – _you!_ You’re better than any psychologist to me! No risk of breaching medical confidentiality – and, see? I can control it much easier when I’m around you. What’s your hourly rate?”

It was Pepper’s turn to pinch the space between her brows hard. She winced at the self-applied pressure. “Tony, please – let’s not have this conversation again. I can’t be around you 24/7 to make sure you’re not getting antsy, even if I wanted to.” As visible disappointment flittered across his features she buried her face in her palms, only to flail her arms around in frustration seconds later.

“Honestly - what do you want me to do? _What?_ You think it’s easy for me, this balancing act between the both of you, where I’m prone to fail one or the other every single time? I’m fed up with being a worrying mess, I can tell you. Because lately that’s all I seem to do: Worry! About you, about Bruce – but unable to help anyone in any way. He doesn’t even want my help anymore and you… you want it too much. Why do you keep on doing this to me? Seriously I don’t know how…”

All of a sudden, his arms were around her and held her tight. Pepper felt her inner barricades give way to the healing powers of the human touch. She realized it had been so long since someone touched and showed her she was cared for; not just vice versa. With a shuddering breath her arms came up to return his hug as her eyes closed in shame. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You’re the one who needs to vent, not me.”

Her voice sounded muffled to her own ears as Tony continued to hold her close, with her face buried in between his shoulder and the crook of his neck. The olfactory sense worked its magic as he smelled so familiar, it scared and soothed her at the same time. They stayed like that for what seemed an eternity before the billionaire started to stroke her back with his thumbs.

“Oh, I’m not too sure about that. So, ladies first - and don’t try to kid me 'n say it’s nothing, Potts. Spill.”  
Pepper harrumphed into his neoprene suit.  
“Can we please try to focus on what’s important here, Stark?”

In a swift motion he clasped her by the shoulders and pushed her out of his embrace. At arms’ length, Tony urged her to look at him, his face serious. “You. You are important. Important to me. Now – what did the creep do? Cause, god help him, I’m gonna rip his fuckin’ arm off and beat him to death with it if he hurt you in any way!"

He searched her face for any indication, and when Pepper was not able to hide her sorrow any longer, she leaned back into his chest with a sigh. Tony wordlessly shifted at the same time, so that they came to rest in a half-lying position on the couch. Even though all of Pepper’s internal warning bells went off at once, she did not flee from his embrace. “Bruce can’t... walk unassisted anymore. The leg injury turned out to be more fatal than assumed. I know he’s hurting, but he’s totally withdrawn from anything; me included.”

Stark gave a slight hum and continued to caress her back in a steady rhythm. For a while, he said nothing. Pepper sniffed once and extracted her arm before it went numb, squashed between their bodies. With no other possibility to place it elsewhere, she put it around his waist. His stomach tightened underneath her touch, so she made sure to rest her palm flat against the upholstery.

“Surely it’s not your fault he’s gotten himself injured at Polo. Guy sounds like he’s gotta lot of issues. Funny, he always seems so - bland.”

His deep baritone rumbled into her side. Pepper stared into the flickering candles, silent.  
“He doesn’t deserve you, Pepper.”  
Tony’s voice was anything but a haunting whisper as his grip around her tightened.

Pepper started to frown. “I’m not a trophy wife - belonging to the one who’s proven to be the best, biggest or richest. Stop trying to make me believe who’s good for me and who isn’t.” She detached herself from his hug and pushed him away before she sat back up a little straighter. The billionaire smacked his lips as he realized his mistake and spread his arms in an apologetic gesture.

“Fair enough. Hey, don’t get me wrong - _I_ didn’t deserve you either if that’s what you’re hinting at. But at least I’ve had the balls to stand corrected, remember?” Pepper cast him an incredulous stare. “ _Stand corrected?_ You... you waltz into Wayne Manor, make a scene in front of Bruce, state he’s a douchebag and request I should marry you? Wow, you’re... you're really something else, Stark!”

Anger overwhelmed her. Pepper jumped up from the sofa into the direction of the terrace, away from him and his unbelievable ways. She already regretted inviting him over. It was typical for her to try and help him with his difficulties, before she came to realize how most of her own problems with Bruce had stemmed from the hot mess that was Tony Stark. He meant trouble; always had, always would. That fact now irritated her further.

“Pepper – wait!”

Tony sprang up and followed her through the large living room area, over to where she jerked at the handle of the French window. Despite her wishes for it to open up, it did not move, and she figured she must have wedged it by accident upon closing it earlier. Moments later, Tony had caught up with her. His face was contorted in despair and helplessness.

“Hey, listen to me; this wasn’t what I meant…”

The redhead tore at the metallic handle like a madwoman, inflicting all her surfacing rage upon it. Tony tried to touch her shoulder to get her to face him, but she shook his hand off whilst still wrestling with the door. He pulled back like a wounded puppy, but continued to hover close by. His hands wavered around, not knowing what to do. Eventually, the French window seemed to budge an inch, and Pepper pulled and tugged with all her might.

“Pepper, the thing is…” When words failed him Tony started to tear at his perfectly styled hair in exasperation. “… fuck! I - you know that I miss you, and…” With a final, strong pull, the door flew open, and she almost slammed it in his face with momentum before she turned towards his baffled countenance.

“Yeah, too bad Tony. Now it’s best you leave. This was a mistake.”  
  
She pointed her chin to where his lifeless suit stood on the terrace. Tony shot her a wild eyed look and also grabbed the door frame. His strength was no match for hers, and she had to let go of the door before he slammed it shut again. Pepper did a few steps backwards and held her arms up to stop or try to keep him at a respectable distance. Persistent, Tony kept going and invaded her personal space until he had her pinned in the corner of the floor to ceiling glass front.

“Do _not_ follow me around here, Tony – just freaking leave. Don’t make it worse!”  
He shook his head with defiance.  
“I sure as hell won’t leave if you’re mad at me like that. Let me explain!”

She tried to shove him away, but it did not even made him waver on the spot.  
Despite his slim appearance, he seemed to be quite strong underneath his neoprene suit.  
“Explain? Explain what? What could you possibly still have to say?”

His eyes, dark and intense, bore into hers.  
As quick as lightning, he grabbed her shoulders and closed the distance between them.  
“That this isn’t a mistake.”

In a split second, Tony pulled her to him and his lips came crashing down on hers.  
Frantic, Pepper opened her eyes wide, after they had initially shut on their own accord.  
When he released her, she slammed her fists into his chest and squirmed in his iron-like grip.

“Damn you!”

Large brown eyes swam into her vision as she looked back up again.  
They darted between hers, his full lips parted slightly even before he spoke again.  
“I love you.”

As he leaned in to kiss her a second time, Pepper’s eyelids fluttered shut even before she felt his warm, sensuous mouth.  
And her inner voice began to scream at her what the hell it was that she was doing.

When Tony felt her starting to shiver in his grip, he snapped out of his altered state of mind and blinked at the woman in front of him, confused. She was still holding his kiss, but tears had started to brim behind her closed eyes. He broke away, guilt-ridden, and cursed out loud at himself for taking advantage of her. The billionaire turned his back towards her and tried to get his equilibrium back in place.

“Fuck! God Pepper, I’m sorry. I’m a fuckin’ bastard. Please beat the crap out of me now, kick me in the balls, anything! I'm gonna hold still, I promise.” When no answer came from behind, Tony spun back around, ready to face the first slap to the cheek he so downright deserved. He waited in vain.

Instead, he was met with Pepper’s mouth.

Tony first groaned with surprise, then with pleasure, and accepted her voluntary kiss, which sent his spirits soaring higher than he ever had gone in his suits. Her hands slid around his waist, and he cupped her face as they stood, in the corner of the darkened penthouse suite, and hung onto each others lips as if their lives depended on it. Tony gave as good as he got, but Pepper’s fierceness took him by surprise.

After what seemed like an eternity, both came up for air, and Tony started to get painfully aware of the effect she was having on him. He shifted away, almost embarrassed at his body’s reaction. Pepper just looked at him with hungry, confused eyes. Tony Stark then did something he thought he had never done before.

“Whoa oookay - time out, time out. Gimme a friggin’ minute here.”

After he took some deep breaths, he stumbled off into the direction of the terrace, pulled the door open once more and stood in the doorway. As he let the cold autumn winds cool off his heated face, his mind reeled from what had just happened. Tony did not know whether to laugh like a madman or cry like a baby. With the door frame in between his hands, he turned around to muster the woman who still had not moved from the corner of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

She huddled against them like a picture of misery and avoided his eyes.  
He extended an arm towards her; fingers spread wide as if wanting to take her hand.  
“Come over here, a little air is gonna be just what you need.”

After a while Pepper looked up at him and started to walk, arms wrapped around herself with a downright miserable expression. “Oh yes that’s gonna be helpful. Hey, I’m engaged to Bruce Wayne, but I just made out with my ex-boss in my fiancé’s former abode. A little air will solve all my problems mighty fine indeed.”

Tony let his arm sink back and grip the door frame again, raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips.  
“Oh please – ‘made out’ doesn’t even come close. And if anything, I dragged you into it, so it’s entirely my fault.”  
He gave a wistful, little whistle as his eyes wandered back out into the night.

“But damn, t'was worth it. All the confirmation I needed.”

Pepper wiped her face, groaned in frustration and leaned against the window next to him. “Please stop talking like that. This was wrong - and exactly what Bruce has been accusing me of! I made a mistake that can never happen again! Tony, I am _engaged!”_ His teeth clenched at the way she emphasized the last part of her sentence, and he shot her a sideways glance through hooded eyes.

“A mistake would be staying with him! It’s finally time to fess up, Pep. You told me he’s treating you like shit already and you’re not even married. So why bother?”

She swallowed hard against the lump of frustration in her throat. Part of her wanted to scream out that Bruce Wayne was the Batman; that his condition was not because of a silly Polo accident, but because he took the blame for a whole city, and that he had given up being the dark vigilante of Gotham to be with her; to start a new life. But Pepper did not scream out loud, and only swallowed once more.

“Because... I want to help him to get better again. He is a good man, even if you don’t think so.” At Tony's scornful snort, she pointed her finger at him. “And no, you _don’t_ get to prejudge him. Devaluing Bruce is not gonna make you look better in return. But you’re right on one thing, and that’s the serious talk between him and me that is in order. It’s overdue, actually.”

At that, Tony looked downright skeptical, and let go of the door frame to cross his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t like the sound of that. What if he is gonna blow a gasket? I’ve been at the receiving end of his temper, and the thought of you setting him straight on your own makes me antsy. Well more antsy than lately, but that’s beside the point. Let me be your hidden backup. If I’m in the suit, he doesn’t stand a chance.”

She patted his forearm and shook her head at the same time. “Nothing like that’s going to happen. You’ll get back and take care of yourself – this will help me more than you hovering outside of the Manor, looking for trouble.” When Tony opened his mouth to protest, Pepper put her hand across it to silence him. The feeling of his warm lips on her fingers made it hard to give him what she hoped was a stern, unwavering look.

When the hint of compliance appeared on his face, she took her hand away and briefly stroked his cheek before pointing her chin to the outside. “Now it’s best if you get going. Give me a chance to try and come to terms with tonight, and how to go from here. We’ll be in touch.” It took several attempts and more prodding to get a reluctant Tony Stark back outside on the terrace. Resigned he came to stand before the shell of his suit and scratched his goatee.

“I’ll be here in a flash if you need me – I mean it. One call, one message and I’ll be back, getting you… out.”  
They both pretended to not have heard his slip-up of almost saying ‘home’ at the end.  
Pepper nodded and watched him step back into the suit with the ease of walking through a patch of fog.

The vision slits flashed up as Iron Man came to life. She figured he would start his repulsor jet packs any second, so she stepped back into a safety distance. Instead, his faceplate slid open one more time. “There’s one thing that’s been on my mind for some time now, so before I forget: Don’t mind short hair at all, but you’re even more beautiful as a natural redhead, Pep. Take care.”

His swift getaway left no room for a proper retort or a scolding look.

Pepper watched his outline shoot up into the sky and disappear behind the clouds soon after. She was about to leave the cold terrace and return to the Manor, when her sixth sense started to tingle and a slight shiver ran down her back. The feeling of being watched persisted even as she looked around, unable to pinpoint her suspicion. With a shake of the head at her superstitious mind, she put the apartment back in its original state and left.

Unbeknownst to her, a black cape fluttered atop the roof of the penthouse building.  
Moments later, it disappeared into the dark of the night; as quiet and secret as it had arrived. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-reading/editing this reminded me of a little convo I recently had with katie1126, who also used the Dorsia in her story, Trial Balloon (which is awesome, btw). Dear katie1126, should you ever stumble across this - please believe me when I say I wrote this some three years ago, and hope not to come across as a cheap rip-off :-D 
> 
> Ps. If anyone could get a reservation at Dorsia, it surely is Bruce Wayne, lol


	3. Chapter 3

Gotham City, November 2010

 

When the beam of light that was Iron Man disappeared on the horizon, the Batman took narrowed eyes away from the sky and stared back down at the penthouse suite. His right hand clenched into a tight fist, and for one moment he debated going after the young woman who was downstairs to get a ride home. Home to Bruce Wayne, her fiancé, who had been unable to keep her from secretly meeting Tony Stark, in spite of everything.

The Batman ground his teeth so hard that his whole jawbone hurt. Blood pulsated in his ears, and his mind shifted into the first stirrings of a raging fit. With the need to release his pent up aggression, the dark creature swung around in grim determination and sprinted across the rooftop, before it jumped off the edge into the abyss of the night.

Without caring about the makeshift prosthesis under the Kevlar, or Bruce Wayne’s promise to Pepper Potts and Alfred Pennyworth, the Batman went to look for trouble and found it; in the darkest alleys and most doubtful neighborhoods Gotham City had to offer. There, he could do some good, as opposed to other parts in his life, filled with injustice, betrayal and lies.

Surrounding a gang of petty criminals was easy enough, and his blinding fury had started to subside when half of the dozen thugs lay groaning on the dirty pavement, a couple of minutes later. However, the bullets whizzing past his head from a patrolling GCPD car had not been part of the plan.

As sirens and search lights started to come off, the Batman tied up the remaining drug dealers, and would have succeeded to escape, if it had not been for one man on the floor who delivered a coincidental, but well-placed kick to the side of his left knee. The long-term injured leg almost gave way underneath him despite the bracket, and the dark knight growled in anger and pain.

He pounded the goon into the ground before he fled from the approaching police car, and the sound of barking police dogs that had been released to follow him through the narrow alleys. Precious time was lost due to his non-cooperating knee joint, and only by sheer will and the help of his grapple gun, the Batman managed to jump across trashcans and wooden fences to get to the fire escape ladders.

Searchlights spotted his dark form, and flying bullets had him zigzagging to avoid a direct hit. Some rounds grazed the armor-plated Kevlar, without doing any harm, but the whole situation was far too close for comfort. The vigilante panted, from both adrenaline and the unfamiliar strain in his leg, before he reached the nearest rooftop.

High up there, he was met by an approaching police helicopter hovering in front. The Batman refrained from rolling his eyes, pushed pain and fears far away to the back of his mind, and immersed himself in the persecution.

***

“Master Wayne?”  
Pepper stopped dead in her tracks as she entered the foyer of the Manor.  
Alfred seemed to be slightly out of breath, as if he had hurried over to see who was coming.

“No it’s just me, Alfred.”  
She tried to appear nonchalant and not as red-handed as she felt, and gave the frowning butler a small smile.  
“Oh, good evening Miss Potts. Master Wayne has not been with you tonight then?”

Pepper fought the blush that crept up her neck, shook her head no and busied herself by shedding her coat. Alfred took it from her with a pensive look. “No, Bruce said he was going to be long today, and that I shouldn’t bother staying up. I’ve been dining out tonight… something spontaneously came up after work. Sorry I didn’t call in.”

She felt guilty, for he had prepared diner in vain, but Alfred waved her off as he hung up her coat.  
“That is fine, Miss Potts; I am just confused why Master Wayne has not…”  
He stopped in mid-sentence and stared off into the direction of the east wing.

Pepper regarded the elder man as his face darkened. Then Alfred blinked and turned towards her, hands behind his back.  
“I am afraid our worst fears have come true, Miss Potts. I think the moment is right for you to follow me, please.”  
Confused, the young woman opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but the butler had already started walking.

She hurried to catch up with his quick steps towards the east wing, and they entered what appeared to be a small study room which she had never been in before. Alfred headed for a piano and pressed three different keys in a row.

“Alfred? What…?”

Before she could finish her sentence, the bookshelf plopped open with a scrunching sound, and she caught a whiff of cold basement air floating over to her. Bewildered, Pepper stared at the butler who motioned for her to come around the fake bookshelf where a metal elevator shaft was visible. Before she took the final step into the lift, she stopped.

“Okay - what’s going on? I want to know where we go before I even consider getting in.”

“The cave, Miss Potts. I wished you would have never needed to know of its existence, but recent developments leave us no choice.”

“The… cave?!”

At Alfred’s beckoning gesture she did follow him, still entranced, and almost jumped when the door behind them fell shut with a rattling sound. The small cabin gave a little lurch and started to move downwards. Pepper put one hand to the wall to steady herself, and watched the butler’s stoic expression.

"At the risk of sounding stupid: I don’t think I’ve really grasped the concept of this excursion yet – we are going to a cave underneath the Manor?”

“See for yourself, Madam.”

As if on cue, the elevator came to a halt, and opened to reveal a giant cave system spread out far into the distance.

A roaring thunderous noise and some screeching sounds filled the air, and it took Pepper several moments to realize the latter came from thousands of bats that circled high up. Alfred walked on and an intrigued young woman tiptoed along, careful not to stumble with her stilettos on the uneven ground.

As soon as she left the entrance area, an impressive waterfall got visible in the background, and the trace of a lake pooled in front of their feet. The redhead stood, looked around in awe, and took in the foreign surroundings with an incredulous look on her face. When she had caught her bearings, she saw Alfred had meandered over to the rim of the shallow water.

“Is this your way of telling me that you knew the whole time Bruce was building this? And that he still is… this creature?”  
Her devastated tone made Alfred turn around. He pointed to some ancient foundations engraved within the stone walls above.  
“The cave system remained intact, even after the disastrous fire. Master Wayne upgraded it, long before your relationship with him became an issue.”

Pennyworth then came back to stand by her side and clasped his hands together. He looked sadder and older than mere moments ago. “Still… the events of Miss Dawes’ death, Master Wayne’s injury and your engagement had me wishing he would stop risking his life every night for good - but apparently, I was wrong.”

Pepper realized the true meaning of his statement. “So you’re saying that Bruce is out there now – barely able to walk and fighting crime being a wanted criminal himself? This is madness! Is there any which way we can contact him?” Alfred’s sad blue eyes lingered on hers. “Sadly no, Miss Potts, it’d be too great a risk for everyone. The only thing we can do is simultaneously the worst: We wait.”

He walked past her, and pressed a button inside the lithic arcades. A deep, humming sound brought a gigantic platform to life, and Pepper’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Even if it was not to be compared to Tony’s workshop, it still displayed Bruce Wayne’s technical proficiency.

Over a small runway, Alfred climbed the platform where equipment and a large multimedia station popped up. As the butler prepared for his protege’s return with expertise, it reminded Pepper Potts of those countless nights on the couch at Stark mansion, waiting for Tony to come crashing through the roof; in need of her and the first aid kit.

“…down there.”  
Alfred’s voice shook her from her reverie.  
“Sorry Alfred, what did you say?”

“I think it is best if you come up here Miss Potts, it will be safer then down there.”

With a nod she made her way over to the platform, accepted Alfred’s helping hand and cursed herself for the current, inappropriate footwear. On the other hand, she had not been prepared to be introduced to the residence of Bruce’s dark alter ego that night. After Pepper had brushed off some pebble underneath her stiletto-heel, she looked up.

“Why did you take me here just now? You know Bruce and I are… going through a rough patch at the moment, so to speak. Isn’t this going to be like a breach of trust to him?” Alfred placed aside what looked to be sterile bandages, sewing kits and beverages, and Pepper cast her eyes downward, ashamed for thinking about Tony again.

“Maybe, but it still is necessary Madam, given that my ultimatum for Master Wayne is going to elapse tonight.”  
It was then that he had Pepper’s complete attention.  
“Ultimatum? What ultimatum?”

The butler straightened his back after he finished his tasks and buttoned down his jacket. “I told Master Wayne, the moment he returns to being the Batman is the moment I would hand in my resignation. And I am afraid that moment has come tonight.” Pepper watched him, horror-stricken. “Oh no! No, Alfred, please. We need you -Bruce needs you-, goodness, he can’t do this without you!”

From the way the elder man avoided her eyes, she moved nearer and placed her hand on his arm to make him look at her. The love and the pain she saw in his eyes were solely for Bruce; the man he loved as if he were his own son. He shook his head in devastation.

“Believe me Miss Potts, it breaks my heart, but I need to do it. I need to make him realize he is too precious to me to have me bury him in the end, because of the Batman.” Alfred then covered her hand with his warm palm and smiled kindheartedly at her. “But I still have hope in you Madam; to get some sense into him somehow. As I told you before, you are most certainly the last person on earth who might make Master Wayne…”

Before Alfred could finish his sentence, an aggressive roaring sound from outside caught their attention.

It came nearer, before a tank-like vessel burst through the waterfall across from them seconds later, its headlights flashing in the darkness. Pepper covered her ears at the resounding, high-pitched echo of the engine, and turned away as the vehicle came to a skidding halt before the platform. Water fountains splashed everywhere, even high up into their direction. She silently thanked Alfred for pulling her away from the railing in time, thus keeping her dry.

The elder man squeezed her shoulder, as if to wish both of them luck for the upcoming confrontation, and stepped forward once again to peek down at the Tumbler. The young woman joined him at the rim, and it dawned on her where she had seen the design of the vessel. The tank looked and sounded even more dangerous and menacing in reality than on any of the blueprints.

Then the double door on top of the driver’s side slid open, and the Batman slowly exited.  
He leaned against the vehicle for a moment, and Pepper held her breath.  
“Master Wayne.”

Alfred’s voice made him look up.  
When he saw the young woman standing next to the butler, his mouth became a thin line.  
He averted his gaze and did not bother to address either of them.

With slow motions, he hobbled around the platform, tearing off the cowl in the process. One hand remained on the platform to steady his limp, before he dragged himself up the ladder. The scowl on his face persisted. Pepper stayed in the background as Alfred stepped forward.

Her fiancé looked impressive and frightening in his Batsuit, even without its cowl. His hair was matted with sweat, and he scanned his butler with a distrustful eye before he walked past him. After he had all but collapsed on a chair in front of the various screens and monitors, he gave a quiet growl.

“Why is she here?”

She did not recognize his voice at first. It was dark and raspy. His eyes flickered from Alfred to her and back; almost black and without any emotion other than anger and rage. Pepper remembered the night she had seen them like that for the first time, gripped the railing behind her and looked to Alfred for help. The butler fetched a bottle of Gatorade.

“Because she needed to know the truth, Master Wayne. Here, have something to drink, you look exhausted…”

In a flash, the bottle got knocked from his hand and rolled into Pepper’s direction. Alfred looked shocked, but picked it up and placed it next to Bruce on the desktop. He clasped his arms behind his back and bent forward in a slight bow. The gesture was as feigned as his polite wordings.

“Very well, Sir. You are making it easier for me then, I presume.”

From where he was propping himself up on his elbow, he shot his butler a darkened look. His over-strained leg was screaming at him in nearly unbearable pain, but all he felt was anger. “Yeah, easy way out. Make sure you’re not letting the door hit you.”

Pepper could not hold back any longer. Even if Bruce still was caught up in whatever dark frenzy ruled his mind, he was going too far. “Bruce, snap out of it - you’re behaving like a monster! How can you treat the only person who stood beside you all this timein such a way?”

She found the will to move away from the railing and towards the two men.  
When Bruce laid malicious eyes on her, however, she stopped walking.  
“Only trustworthy person indeed. Especially after your two-faced stunt tonight.”

An icy feeling started to spread out in her chest.

It must have played on her face as well, because Bruce got up from his seat and took a step towards her. “You’re meeting Tony Stark behind my back? At my penthouse? What the fuck is it with you, woman?” His voice rose with each syllable he spat at her, and Pepper took a step back to glimpse at Alfred, who also looked shocked, but ready to shield her in an emergency.

“This was a one time, spontaneous visit. If you don’t believe me, then…”

He jabbed a gloved finger into her direction. The sharp hooks on his forearm blade gloves caught her attention and made her nervous. “I believe your feelings for Stark are truer than the scam we call engagement. Don’t know what ever came over me wanting to marry you. You’re _nowhere_ near close to a classy woman like Rachel.”

With a shake of her head, Pepper twisted the Tiffany ring off her finger and flung it at him with all her might. It hit the Kevlar body suit square at the chest without any impact, and bounced off to fall to the ground with a small clink. Three pairs of eyes watched the small object roll to a stop, then Pepper walked backwards to the staircase, eyes fixated on Bruce.

”The past couple of weeks indeed had me wondering how I could marry a man who’s living two lives and doesn’t know where to draw the line. Take care Bruce, I mean it.”

With venom, the billionaire slammed a fist into the computer panel. It caused a screen to smash into smithereens from the impact of the graphite blades. Without acknowledging the shards all over the desk and the floor, he pointed his arm towards the exit.

“Then go – leave, both of you! I know you want to! And for fuck’s sake don’t come back here; I don’t need _any_ of you!”

At the spat out, hateful words Pepper's heart ached, especially for Alfred. For a moment, the butler even looked as if he wanted to slap Bruce in the face, but his social status forbid him such drastic measures. Instead he wordlessly turned and motioned for her to walk towards the elevator.

When the doors closed behind them, Pepper released a breath she did not know she had been holding. Alfred looked more composed than she would have given him credit for. “How quick can you pack your most important belongings, Miss Potts?” His question caught her by surprise, but she did a quick, mental inventory.

“Five to ten minutes. Then what?”  
The butler closed the secret entrance to the cave behind them and cast her a grave look.  
“I’ll be waiting for you outside in the limousine. Now hurry.”

Without asking any more questions, Pepper went off to gather all items and documents she needed. She made it in less then eight minutes, and jumped onto the passenger seat of the limousine Alfred had brought up to the front of the Manor, engine running. As soon as she had fastened her seat belt, he switched on the headlights and drove down the gravel path towards the gates.

Pepper stared down the darkened road.

“I… I can’t believe what just happened. What will you do, Alfred? Where will you go?”  
He threw her a sad look before watching the road again. She saw his hands grip the wheel with more force than necessary.  
“For now it is the best decision Miss Potts. Do not worry about me; I have a place to go to. Where can I take you?”

She felt his refusal to tell her any more details and refrained from asking again.  
“The airport please. I can’t stay in Gotham; nothing holds me here anymore.”  
The butler nodded, but kept silent after that.

Pepper did not know if he reprimanded her for breaking Bruce’s trust, and decided she was better off not knowing.

After less then thirty minutes, she then found herself in front of Gotham City airport and shook Alfred’s hand for the last time. Instead of asking him how to stay in touch, she just stood and watched as the elder man drove off into the night. Pepper Potts clutched her handbag, turned around and entered the departure terminal.

The young man at the counter snapped his bubblegum as he scanned the screen in front of him. The redhead tried hard not to impatiently tap her foot or her fingers as the minutes passed along. Eventually he had found something suitable. “Economy class only. Flight AA-1305 leaves at 10:25PM. Shall I book it for you?”

With a quick look at her watch, she nodded and stuffed the ticket into her purse. She then made her way over to the newspaper stand in order to pass the remaining time. At 10:15PM, Pepper Potts strapped herself into a well-worn seat by the window. She blinked with tired eyes as the lights of Gotham City quickly became smaller and smaller underneath.

Before she was forced to switch off her mobile, she sent one last message.

_’ETA LAX 3:05AM. Come if convenient.’_

 


	4. Chapter 4

Los Angeles, November 2010

 

The landing process woke Pepper from a light slumber. She buckled in and watched the lights of LAX illuminate the dark sky of the night as the plane descended. With a stretch of her stiff back she rose from her seat and left the plane as one of the first passengers. The brightness of the large arrival terminal made her squint as she looked around for a familiar face.

After a while, she started to walk towards the exit, disappointed, and switched on her mobile in hopes of having a message. There was none. A mild breeze not uncommon for California mid-November hit her as the sliding doors opened, and Pepper stopped to unbutton her winter coat. People passed her by, and when she looked back up, she saw a familiar sports car at the curb in front of gate 40, a few feet away.

The white Audi R8 stood with parking lights on and its driver inside. With a relieved smile, Pepper walked on. As her eyes fastened on the license plate that said Stark 17, she wondered why he had acquired yet another model similar to his Spyder convertible. Without hesitation she grabbed the sleek door handle and let herself be wrapped in the comforting, well-known scent of leather, spearmint and Old Spice.

Tony Stark slouched in his seat and chewed on a piece of gum. His wrist casually rested atop the steering wheel and he cocked his head towards her when she slumped into the seat with a sigh. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a black hoodie, and a thoughtful but relieved look on his face.

“You forgot to add that 3AM is highly inconvenient for most people.”  
Pepper leaned her head back with the best ‘Oh please’ stare she could muster up, despite being utterly tired and grateful.  
“You’re not most people, Tony.”

She glanced around the huge parking lot area and her glare softened.  
“Thanks for picking me up.”  
He snapped a small bubble in between his lips and sat up straight.

“No biggie. Already had Dwight getting a jet ready to fly you out of Gotham, but, alas, you were quicker.”

His stern tone surprised her, but Tony left it at that and pressed a button to which the R8 ignited. He steered the car out into the traffic with a flick of his wrist, and they gained noticeable velocity. With curiosity and an unspoken question in her eyes, Pepper regarded the digital center console. The billionaire pointed his chin towards the animated energy flow chart. “E-tron. Nifty little ride, though just a prototype. Think it's a keeper.”

Pepper relaxed and leaned back once more to watch the scenery fly by. From the corner of her eye, she saw how Tony mustered her small handbag. His right hand rested atop his ARC and his fingers started to drum a staccato rhythm. “Commercial flight, no luggage – impromptu getaway? The overdue talk between you and your American Psycho didn’t go so well, me thinks...”

She let her bag slide to the floor between her legs. Her right elbow came to rest atop the passenger door and Pepper palmed her forehead. “Okay, so if I tell you we broke up and I give you two minutes to do all the gloating and ‘told-you-so’ing in the world – can we please drop the subject, once and for all?”

When no answer followed, Pepper turned her head. Tony stared ahead and focused on driving. His jaw was working long before he spoke. “Do you want to stay over at the mansion tonight? Your apartment’s still the way you left it, but it might need a good spring cleaning. We can call someone to do that tomorrow.”

Pepper followed his gaze, ran a hand through her hair several times and exhaled. Even without a mirror, she knew her red roots were slowly but steadily starting to reappear. “Tony, I think we need to get a couple of things straight between us before one of us gets a wrong impression here. I…”

He interrupted her with a tsking sound and snapped his gum once more to go with his disdain. “Why, I just picked you up and offered you a place to sleep at after a shitty breakup. At the moment you’re not obliged to anything or anybody. You’re not working for me -even though I’d love you to, but we can talk about that some other time- and nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want to happen. No ulterior motives – zero, zip, nada. How's that sound?”

Pepper reached out and patted his thigh.  
“Good. That sounds… good. Thanks.”  
He smirked, pressed the accelerator a tad further, but said nothing.

Around half past three in the morning, they entered Stark Mansion where Jarvis greeted her as euphoric as possible for an AI.

Pepper smiled sadly as the British voice of Jarvis reminded her of Alfred, and she hoped and prayed the elder man was doing okay, considering the circumstances, and had found a safe place to stay as well. Tony stood in the living room, scratched his head and warded off a yawn. He looked at her with  a rare insecurity in his eyes.

“You want to use your old guestroom?”  
Pepper shifted the shoulder strap of her handbag and nodded.  
“Yes, I think that’ll be the best. Thanks.”

She bit her lip before she wished him a good night; from his looks he might not be sleeping much at all. Then again neither would she, after everything that had happened. Pepper went up to the private area, and noticed from the corner of her eye how Tony remained standing in front of the stairs to the workshop with a pensive look on his face.

***

After freshening up, the redhead slipped underneath the sheets with a relieved sigh and turned off the lights. As she lay on her back and stared out of the large window, she heard footsteps walk past her room. The door to his master bedroom clicked shut moments later. A little comforted he at least wanted to give sleep a try, Pepper closed her eyes and dozed off.

No sixty minutes later, however, she stirred.  
Disoriented at first, Pepper almost jumped when a disembodied voice next to her bedside called her name.  
“Jarvis? What’s wrong?”

“Excuse me Miss Potts. I am informed of your non-employment status, but I wanted to let you know that Mister Stark is currently experiencing a disturbing dream sequence.” Her drowsy mind pondered the AI’s words before she sat up and stared at the door. “Isn’t there anything you can do for him?”

“I’m afraid my methods do not have a suitable effect on the Sir. He is going to wake and will spend the rest of the night downstairs. This pattern has become routine ever since.”

She chewed her bottom lip and looked down at her oversize pajama. Pepper nodded, part to herself and part to Jarvis, as she got up and moved over to the master bedroom. With care she twisted the doorknob and stood in the ajar door. Tony had the habit of either sleeping in utter darkness, mostly after a heavy night out with a matching hangover to come, or not using the blinds at all.

The latter was the case that night, and from where she stood Pepper could see the moon reflecting across the ocean in the distance.

She slipped into his chamber and closed the door behind her. Unsure whether to call his name from afar or not she waited, until her eyes had further adjusted to the darkness. Tony Stark lay hunched over on his left side, in a black wifebeater and matching pajama pants, blankets strewn all around him, and took uneven breaths in his sleep. Pepper’s face softened in compassion as she stepped closer to his bedside.

While she debated sitting down on the edge of the mattress or not he flinched and started to whimper. His eyes were squeezed shut and his fingers clenched and unclenched around the pillow. Pepper crouched down to the floor next to him and extended her hand to stroke one of his balled fists. ”Tony… hey Tony. It’s just a dream… shh, everything’s okay.”

When he did not pull away at her touch, but made no move to wake from his apparent nightmare either, Pepper got bolder and slid onto the edge of the bed. She did not take her eyes off him and switched from stroking his hand to his temple. It was damp with sweat. The mumblings started to get more vocal and she leaned in to understand.

“Not her… I can’t! Leave me… no – J… get me out…”  
Miserable, she tried to rouse him again, in combination with physical touch.  
It took several attempts until she succeeded, and Tony woke with a start. He gulped down a sob and blinked at her in confusion.

“Huh? What? Pepper? Have I…?”  
He shifted until the light of the ARC illuminated both of their faces.  
“Shit. I’m…ah fuck, should've known it was a stupid idea.”

Pepper watched her longtime friend rub his eyes with the back of his hands. They shook visibly, even though he tried hard to hide it. When Tony proceeded to get up she stopped him by placing her hand squarely on his chest. “Wait, what’s this gonna be?” Again he tried to gain momentum in order to get up. “I’m not wasting my time here when I could be down in the shop being productive.”

He was confronted with Pepper’s arm around his shoulders as she shook her head.  
“No. What your body needs is sleep, genius, not being productive.”  
Before Tony started to protest, she pushed him towards the middle of the king size bed.  
  
“Move over.”

Confused he shifted as Pepper scooted over on the mattress and came to sit tailor-style next to him. Propped up against the headrest, she threw him a determined glance. “I’ll stay until I’m sure you’re not hightailing it out of here.” To validate her point, she crossed slim arms in front of her chest. Instead of lewd comments about her getting into his bed, Tony plopped down on his back, groaned in frustration and covered his eyes with an arm.

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Pepper. It’ll get worse as soon as I close my eyes. Good luck keeping up.”  
Her mouth curved into a bitter smile at his resigned tone.  
“And still… running away doesn’t change a thing. How about we just take it from here and see how it goes? Together?”

He took his arm away with a slow, deliberate movement, and gave her a look full of honest surprise when her words registered in his brain. “Are you – uh… you serious about this?” Pepper averted his gaze and stared at her fingers. Her next statement would be make-or-break for them. When she mustered up the courage to glimpse at him, she realized Tony was watching her with large and hopeful eyes.

She tied hard not to get lost in the raw, pure emotion that lingered there, and knew what to say.

The man in front was the real Tony Stark; the one she had always known was there, hidden behind his shallow facade, superficial grin and endless playboy antics. It had taken him a very long time, lots of detours, trials and tribulations, but he had surfaced after all. It was the Tony she had secretly fallen for many years ago. The Tony for whom she had suppressed her feelings to remain professional and to avoid getting hurt. And the Tony who had put everything at stake and confessed his feelings for her against all odds.  
  
Pepper knew the answer to his question, even though she never imagined to be able to say it out loud.  
“Yes I am. I don’t know exactly how to go from here right now, but I do know you don’t have to do this by yourself any longer.”

Her voice quivered and she stopped, embarrassed. Memories flooded her mind; from their big falling-out after Miami and the incident at Bruce’s office, over to the night of the housewarming party in Gotham. It was all very fresh, and Pepper tried not to get overwhelmed by the emotional turmoil. Tony turned on his left side to face her and rested his cheek upon the crook of his arm.

She could see he was affected, but glossed it over by playing it cool, as years of keeping face had taught him to. “Don’t worry, we’ll play it by ear – just the way I like it. And like the great Jim Morrison said: There’s no time to wallow in the mire. The rest of the night’s gonna be short as it is.” He then nudged her calf with his knee as his voice took on a playful, whining edge.

“For that matter – I so can’t sleep if someone’s sitting beside me. Totally creeps me out. Lay down for the sake of my tormented soul.”

For a split second, panic flickered across Pepper’s face, and a multitude of scenarios ran through her head. Tony must have read her thoughts because he gave a rueful smile and took down his arm. “No, not _that_. Sheesh. I’d just… love you to stay. Might help me sleep. And as I promised: No ulterior motives. Think I’d be stupid enough to risk losing you again because of my libido?”

At his crestfallen look, Pepper felt ashamed; though his impressive past time track record with women could not be denied. With resolute movements she slid underneath the expensive cotton sheets and turned on her side as well so they were face to face. Tony made no move to scoot nearer or to touch her. Instead he lay and watched her with an almost child-like, spellbound expression. Pepper stifled a yawn and pressed her palm flat on the pillow, but kept eye contact with him all the time.

“Is this weird?”  
He chuckled at her little jibe and shook his head.  
“Not weird. Not weird at all. Just amazing.”

When his eyelids started to droop, Pepper fought her own fatigue long enough to see him give in to the exhaustion of the past weeks and listened to his breathing even out. Tinged in the blue hues of the ARC, his face soon lost the hardened edge of wrinkles and laugh lines that had carved into his skin throughout the years. She marveled at how young Tony looked, almost like when she had first met him, over a decade ago.

Unabashed Pepper’s eyes roamed around his face, as she felt the need to study his every feature and had a lot of catching up to do. On closer examination she saw that his goatee had become lighter in color, and figured he must have stopped to dye it jet-black sometime after she had left. Salt and pepper came to her mind with fondness, and the fact he wore it different than before he became Iron Man -less devilish and more sophisticated- suited him just fine she decided, together with his shorter and spikier haircut.

During her silent observation, the muscles in his body started to twitch underneath the blanket and his breath hitched. Pepper extended a hand to his bare forearm and rested it there. It seemed to do the trick and Tony stilled again soon after. Pepper then found herself caught up in self-made dilemma, as the angle of her hand and arm was too uncomfortable to fall asleep herself.

Her tries to take it back were futile and resulted in Tony frowning and mumbling in a half-coherent state of mind until she kept skin contact. The remaining option was to shift nearer to him, which Pepper eventually did in order to get some rest before the night was completely over. After she closed her eyes she inhaled the scent of fresh cotton sheets, the faint reminiscence of his fragrance and his warm, mint-flavored breath on her face.

The young woman was sound asleep before she could start to ponder the possibilities of giving a relationship with him a try.

***

A soft, chiming sound woke Pepper from her deep sleep.

For the first few heartbeats, she lay with her eyes closed and tried to remember where she was. When she lifted an eyelid, she found herself staring out at the ocean through the tinted window panes of Tony Stark’s bedroom. She blinked both eyes open and realized she was trapped underneath an arm.The billionaire had spooned up behind her at some point during the night, and his facial hair tickled the back of her exposed neck.

A strong hand was encircling her stomach, and Pepper Potts had to admit she had slept like a baby for the first time in weeks.

The soft snoring relieved her; Tony still slept in peaceful bliss as well. While she did not want to wake him yet, she heard the chiming sound again, a bit louder, and Pepper frowned in annoyance at the usually so discreet AI. Jarvis did not seem to have realized Tony needed to rest. Unsure how to solve the problem without standing or speaking up, Jarvis took the decision from her.

“Urgent phone call on line two, Sir.”

She rolled her eyes as the British voice cut through the peacefulness of the moment. With a groan and a start, Tony jerked back into consciousness and briefly tightened his grip around her waist as he stretched. Pepper moved as well, and twisted around to be met with his tousled appearance. His deep brown eyes were still heavily laced with sleep. With a guilty smile, he took away his arm.

“I swear, _you_ snuggled up to _me_. I practically had no choice.”  
He got a crooked smile in return, as Pepper thought about how non-presentable she looked.  
Before she became self-conscious, Tony turned onto his back and wiped one hand across his face.

“What’s the time J, and who’s on the darn phone?”

“It is 11:45 AM, and the Los Angeles Mercy Medical Hospital is on the phone, Sir.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a special meaning for me today, as it will be the first time I'm going to ride in a R8 Spyder myself! Oh, and I promise I will tone down on the American Psycho references from now on, really, I will (*cough*hot damn Christian Bale*cough*)


	5. Chapter 5

“What do they want? What’s going on?”

Tony’s voice held a strained edge as he swung his legs over the rim. Pepper also pushed herself up and walked around the bed to get her mobile phone. “It’s Mister Hogan, Sir. He has been in an accident that occurred in close proximity to the Chinese Theater in Los Angeles this morning.”

“Oh god.”

She slung her hand in front of her mouth and stared at Tony, whose eyes became hard as he shot up from the bed. “Put 'em through. I want a news embargo for the hospital staff and anyone at SI who might’ve gotten wind of this. Asap. No word to the media, from no one!”

During his phone call, Pepper got dressed and met him in the living room five minutes later; clad in denim, checked shirt blouse and sneakers. Tony paced around a pair of jeans, blue sweater with a black jacket and a pair of dark sunglasses. He neither cared his ARC shone through the fabric for everyone to see, or how his goatee was in need of a trim. They hurried towards the E-tron outside as he let her in on the news.

“Terrorist attack. There was an explosion; Happy was right in the middle. He’s lucky to be alive, but they put him in a coma.” Tony's monotone voice sounded hollow and strange to Pepper’s ears as she buckled up and grabbed the edge of her seat. He gunned it out of the driveway and onto the PCH. They did 110 mph despite speeding limits, and managed to get to the hospital in less than forty minutes.

Outside the LAMMH, the first noisy reporters and paparazzi had already gathered and craved a good story, but Tony used the shielded ER entrance to get in without too much hassle. Their shoes screeched on linoleum as Pepper and Tony followed a young doctor down to the ICU. They peeked through the window where Happy lay amidst a multitude of beeping machines, tubes and IV bags, looking too still, too small, and too vulnerable. Pepper could not suppress a sob.

“Who has done that to him?”

Tony just stared ahead with clenched teeth. At her whispered question, however, he slammed a balled fist against the thick glass that separated them from their friend, before he rested his palm flat against the glass. “I don’t know. But I will. And I’ll make ‘em pay – no matter who, or how many they are!”

Despite his blinding rage, he did not pull away as she reached out for his free hand to intertwine her cold fingers with his. They continued to watch Happy’s still form until a group of doctors, surgeons and police officers approached them. It took a lot of Pepper’s persuasion to tear Tony away and to have him follow them into a secluded conference room to discuss the initial situation.

They were informed Harold Hogan had suffered severe burns of the third degree, next to several broken bones and internal bleeding. It turned out the bodyguard had followed some henchmen who belonged to a terrorist organization called A.I.M., which had tried to infiltrate Stark Industries. From what was assumed by the police, one of them had been equipped with booby-traps which went off as Hogan was close to catching him.

His face stoic and unemotional, Tony listened to the policemen with arms crossed in front of his chest. Pepper cast him worried glances he ignored, so she took over and tried to acquire as much information as she could. “Mister Hogan is going to receive the best care available, Madam. Should his condition change we'll of course inform you immediately.”

Pepper thanked the chief resident as well as the police officers before they took their leave, and turned her attention back to Tony. He still half-sat on the edge of the conference table and stared ahead. “Do you want me to drive back and get you a couple of things so you can stay here?” She made a move to reach out for him, but it brought the billionaire out of his reverie, and he rose to his feet.

“No. Nothing we can do here for him. I’d rather go home and get the suit ready. C’mon.” In quick strides, he had crossed the distance to the door and Pepper followed him. She had seen the lethal look in his eyes before a mission countless times, but it had never before been this personal. If the previous situation outside seemed bad, Tony and Pepper now almost did a double take when they reached the main entrance of the hospital.

Since Tony’s sports car was not allowed to stay parked in ER, a staff member had seen to the R8 being driven up front. The mob of paparazzi and reporters outside had picked up on the action, and their number had increased almost fivefold. Tony put his shades back on, wet his lips and grabbed Pepper’s hand to all but drag her through the electronic revolving doors.

Flashlights clicked in media frenzy, and the “Mister Stark! Mister Stark!” shouts drowned out anything else for one moment. The two of them managed to worm their way through the crowd unhindered, seeing that Tony’s aura radiated not to be messed with, and most reporters moved out of his line. Before they could reach their car, two women and a man stopped their stride and circled them.

“Please Mister Stark, what happened? Who’s responsible for this? What will you do?”

Pepper was about to inhale and tell the noisy guy to stick his smart phone elsewhere, but Tony stopped dead in his tracks, released her hand and looked around. All noise died down in anticipation of his awaited statement. Pepper pressed an unobtrusive palm into the small of his back, to try and keep him walking, but Tony did not budge or move an inch. With a sigh, she removed her hand and came to stand behind him.

“Here’s a little Thanksgiving holiday greeting that I wanna send to the terrorists of A.I.M... I just didn’t know how to phrase it until now.”

Cameras started to click in frenzy, and the whole crowd moved over to come to stand in front of the billionaire. They held their microphones and smart phones like spears into his direction. Pepper Potts' sense for trouble tingled at his clipped voice, which sounded so very different and dangerous, and she feared for the outcome of whatever he was about to throw into the open.

”My name is Tony Stark and I’m not afraid of you. I know you’re cowards. So I’ve decided…” He took of his shades in one fluent motion for emphasis and the air around him went white with flashlights. “…that you just die, guys. I’m gonna come and get the bodies. There’s no politics here, just good old-fashioned revenge.” An audible gasp went through the rows of women and men behind their recording devices and Pepper closed her eyes. Tony looked square into the cameras.

“There’s no Pentagon, it’s just you and me. Here’s my home address: 10880 Malibu Point, 90265. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”  
The smug reporter was too taken aback to move as Tony snatched the mobile from him.  
“That’s what you wanted, right?”  
  
He turned and threw the device into a wall where it shattered to pieces. Another murmur went through the crowd, and Pepper finally stepped in. She grabbed Tony’s arm and begged him with her eyes to stop. Tony took her hand in his and gave the intimidated reporter a cold sneer.

“Bill me.”

The crowd parted like the Red Sea as they went for the R8, got in and sped out of the hospital grounds with screeching tires.

***

Gotham City, November 2010

 

Bruce Wayne sat in the semi darkness of his cave; in the same dressing gown from his father, which he had thrown over nearly forty-eight hours ago. His fingers scratched the stubble of beard that had grown after he had banished Alfred and Pepper from his life. Ever since then, Bruce had survived on minimal resources of sleeping, eating and taking care of himself. The Batsuit sat enthroned in its glass case, useless for the moment, to mock him whenever he glanced its way.

Instead of another near-failure mission to take his mind off of what had happened, the billionaire had spent the time locked away in the cave. He had come out once to the east wing of the Manor for eating, when he felt like he was about to black out from low blood sugar. Bruce was thankful at least some housemaids were around and prepared food for him.

At least he had been thankful until three hours ago, when he caught one of them meddling with a safe in the east wing. Even though he managed to scare her off, the young woman still took his beloved mother’s pearl necklace. Bruce boiled with anger at having been outwitted by a stranger in a maid costume, examined her work, and came to the conclusion he had been conned by a professional burglar none other than Selina Kyle.

When he realized she had not primarily been after the jewelry, but his fingerprints instead, the billionaire got serious and ran an analysis on her on his high tech computer system. As if on cue, he received an email from Lucius Fox about a hostile attack on Wayne Enterprises to obtain secret data soon after, and put two and two together.

After endless rows of convict indexes ran across the screens, and headlines of worldwide newspapers flashed before Bruce’s eyes, the trace from Miss Kyle led him over to an organization named A.I.M., that worked with hirelings like Kyle and terrorists like Bane. During his process of research and investigation, Bruce came across more information on A.I.M. He found out it consisted of brilliant scientists and their henchmen, who were dedicated to the acquisition of power and the overthrow of governments by technological means.

His eyebrows knitted together in a frown as he learned that A.I.M., re-imagined as a government-sanctioned, privately funded think-tank, was founded by someone called Aldrich Killian. The name did not ring any bells with Bruce, and he wondered what Wayne Enterprises had done to get into the focus of Advanced Idea Mechanics. While he sat and tried to connect the missing pieces of the puzzle, his eyes flickered towards the news stream at the screen to his left.

‘… _it’s just you and me. Here’s my home address: 10880 Malibu Point, 90265. I’ll leave the door unlocked.’_

The news channel showed live footage of the very Tony Stark in front of a hospital, threatening the terrorist group in question. Bruce’s eyes narrowed when he spotted the shaken countenance of Pepper Potts in the back. The Gotham billionaire drummed his fingers on the console, and tried to make the connection between A.I.M.’s attack on Stark and their attempted heist on Wayne Enterprises. His first idea was a simple sabotage act; seeing both companies had turned their back on weapon’s manufacturing, and respectively entered the green energy market.

Bruce dug deeper and found out that A.I.M. supplied arms and technology to various terrorist and subversive organizations; both to foster a violent, technological revolution, and to make a profit. A.I.M. operatives usually were involved in R&D, manufacturing and sales of high technology. Their members were required to at least have a Master's degree, if not a PhD, in some area of science, mathematics or business.

“And look whom we have here…”  
Bruce’s voice echoed through the vast cave as he leaned back in his seat and glared at the screen.  
The picture of a female doctor by the name of Maya Hansen popped up, next to a few projects she worked on, as a member of A.I.M.

The Gothamite remembered the young woman from Capri only too well. His mind wandered back to the night she had told him about one of her projects. She had been vague; it was supposed to be some biotechnological magic bullet that Maya Hansen had been trying to obtain funding for. Seeing he never got back to her might be another explanation as to why his fingerprints had been stolen and his company had become a target.

Even though Bruce did not know how to approach Pepper after what had happened, he felt obliged to give her and Stark a fair warning, and to inform them of the duplicity of Maya Hansen. After Stark’s recent, imbecile actions, it was only a matter of time until A.I.M. would strike again. With regards to the fate which had befallen Rachel, Bruce feared for Pepper’s life being in close proximity of such danger.

He eyed his Batsuit once more, rose from the chair and hobbled over to the glass case. His hand slid across a sensor, and the case opened with a hydraulic hiss. Once the knee bracket sat in its place, the billionaire made his way upstairs to take a shower, shave, and change into decent clothes. He flew out to Malibu by night, accompanied only by some of his rather special equipment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to tweak Tony's gunslinger-act-speech a little, to make it fit the timeline, so no huge bunny for x-mas in this one. Background info on A.I.M. courtesy of wiki (either Marvelwiki or regular wikipedia)


	6. Chapter 6

When the Audi came to a standstill in front of the mansion, Pepper unbuckled and walked inside without a word.  
She still reeled from everything that had happened.  
While she understood Tony was in an emotional state of mind, she did not approve of his one man show.

The man in question stormed into the house shortly after, quick footsteps disappearing down the stairs to his workshop. Pepper braced herself against the kitchen island and exhaled. Then she did the first thing that came to her mind. She told Jarvis to switch off every phone and every media connection, except for an emergency line for calls from the hospital or Stark Industries, and helped herself to a huge glass of water.

When her stomach rumbled, she began to prepare lunch with what little she found in Tony’s fridge that was editable. It turned out to be nothing more than a few slices of toast with cheese and cream, and after she wolfed down two sandwiches herself, Pepper took a plate and a huge mug of coffee downstairs. His music, aggressive hard rock, reverberated through the bulletproof glass panels. Pepper typed in the last access code she remembered to own, and the door opened without complaint.

She winced at the sound level as she went over to where he stood underneath the torso of a suit and manually fixed the latest knickknacks. Without a word, Pepper placed the tray next to him on the workbench. As soon as Tony got aware of her presence, he uttered a small order at Jarvis, to which the volume considerably decreased. “Thank you.” He gave a curt nod that could have been directed at her bringing him food, or for his consideration regarding the music.

Tony stuck his head back underneath the lifeless Mark model, and Pepper observed him for a few moments. She watched how the muscle strings in his neck and back moved, and wished to be able to rewind the events of the day to before the fateful call that morning. “So what’s your plan? Bursting into their headquarters, blazing fire?”

The slight sarcasm in her voice did not betray the fear she felt for his life. While Pepper did not want to rile him up, she could not help but to harbor her own fair share of revenge-filled thoughts. Tony’s head reappeared from underneath the dismantled suit as he reached out for some kind of headset, and he threw a plasma cutter into the toolbox where it landed with a metal clang.

“Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

He walked over to her and peered at the tray. After he had taken a huge gulp of coffee and a similar big bite out of the sandwich, Pepper pursed her lips and regarded him with concern. “It’s not going to help Happy or me when you go out there and get yourself killed, you know? At least find out in advance what you’re going up against.”

Eyes ablaze he looked at her, and Pepper saw hurt and rage warring on his face. His stance then took on a fighting edge as Tony swung around to the workbench and extended his hand, martial arts style. Without warning, a small item flew all the way over into his direction. As if by magic it landed right around his wrist as part of a gauntlet. He then gave her a feral grin. “Believe me – they’ll never know what hit them.”

All Pepper could do was stare at him for a couple of heartbeats and process what she had witnessed.  Her eyes wandered back and forth between his wrist and the workbench. “Please don’t tell me this is normal. This _can’t_ be normal.” A triumphant smirk was his answer. She saw him adjust the headset, before he moved into a flawless sequence of assembling all parts of the suit on him.

It was insane, it was brilliant, and it was totally Tony Stark.

After a few minutes, he came to stand in front of her, clad in what she was told was Mark XLII; the difference in height for once in his favor. His faceplate slid up and he gave a little bow that bordered on comical. She moved nearer and put her hands up on the cold and hard metal chest plate. “Can’t say I’m not impressed, Mister Stark. So that's what you do down here when I’m not around for a while, huh?”

His face softened a little, and he made a move to take her hand, but refrained before he would hurt her fingers. “Only good thing that stemmed from it. Only one.” After a moment of hesitation, Pepper let her eyes wander down to his lips before she got up on her toes. Tony stared at her in silence before he, too, started to lean his head towards her. On the last few inches that separated them, the doorbell rang.

“Someone unidentified is approaching the main door.”

Tony pulled back in exasperation and glanced around as the sound got reproduced within the workshop. Robbed the chance of a good kiss, he looked upwards and tried to distribute his annoyance at the AI. “Why are we still at ding dong? We’re supposed to be on total security lock down! C’mon J, I just threatened a terrorist gang for fuck’s sake!”

With the spell of the moment broken, they both took a step away from each other. Pepper cleared her throat and cast him a pointed glare. “Terrorists don’t use doorbells, silly. I’ll go and check. Apart from going paranoid you’re not leaving the very moment, are you?”

Tony fumbled with the hinge axis on his left elbow, shook his head no with a sullen look on his face and clunked over to his hall of fame in order to fetch a suitable tool. Pepper left him to his toys but not before she snapped her fingers to get his attention once more and pointed to the food. After she attempted to smoother down her clothes to look at least semi-presentable, she opened the front door with a swift pull.

Outside stood Bruce Wayne, dressed in a khaki-green jacket and black slacks.

They stared at each other in eerie silence for a moment. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse...” Pepper gripped the door tight, which elicited a small sigh from Bruce. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket; a sign she recognized as underlying tension. “If you think seeing _me_ is bad, then you’re definitely not prepared for what’s going to follow Stark’s moronic outburst on TV.”

He shifted on his feet, looking tired, and Pepper was almost about to ask him to come in and have a seat before she berated herself. Here was the man who had driven her and his longtime butler away, in a culmination of being out of touch mentally and physically for the past couple of months. With arms crossed in front of her chest, she continued to eye him with suspicion. “These terrorists will pay for what they did to Ha… our friend. Tony'll make sure of that.”

She wondered when the need for revenge had crept from her mind out onto her tongue, and mustered up the courage to look him square in the eyes. What she saw there puzzled her, as it resembled sincere worry and concern. Bruce then tilted his head, and Pepper recognized that gesture as well. It would be followed by something astute and rational.

“Stark should be more careful when choosing his friends. Namely those who work for the very terrorist organization he’s about to attack.”  
He caught her off guard and it showed. Pepper frowned at her ex-fiancé in confusion and switched into a less hostile mode.  
“What? Whom do you mean? You’re saying there’s a traitor in the lines of Stark Industries? And if so – how would _you_ know?”

The Gotham billionaire pressed his lips together, shook his head and glanced around. ”Remember Capri? Maya Hansen works for A.I.M. She and the project she wanted to sell me are funded by someone called Aldrich Killian. Now - I don’t know him, but apparently he’s the mastermind behind the whole thing.” Pepper became pale around the nose and her eyes darted in between his hazel ones.  
  
“But… I know him… and so does Tony.”  
Before she had the chance to explain, a voice from behind made her flinch.  
“Tony does what? Whom you’re talking to, Pep? If it’s those girl scouts again, tell ‘em to keep their damn cookies as I still have last year’s…”

He stopped dead in his tracks when he came face to face with Bruce Wayne in his doorway.  
The latter then cocked an elegant eyebrow at him, together with a shrug and a deadpan expression.  
“No girl scouts. Sorry to disappoint.”

Pepper was grateful Tony had stepped out of his suit; she would not have been able to guarantee for Bruce’s safety otherwise. Stark’s face darkened and he clenched his fists as he moved nearer to wedge himself between Pepper and the other man. “Get off my property you miserable sonofabitch, before I forget myself.” Alarm bells went off in Pepper’s head, and she tried to push a snarling Tony Stark back.

Out of instinct, Bruce had slipped his hands from his pockets and widened his stance. The corners of his mouth curved with scorn. “Classy as usual, Stark. I wouldn’t have bothered if it just concerned your sorry ass, but you idiot managed to drag her into this mess.” In a smooth, gliding motion Tony moved past Pepper.

"Why you little..."

The punch Tony delivered might have held the element of surprise, but lacked true vigorous effect as it was acted out on impulse rather then proper technique. Bruce took a step back to regain his balance, unscathed, but now equally upset. He adopted a similar martial arts stance to ward off the smaller man who hovered in front of him, Wing Chun style, with his hands and forearms up.

"Would you two stop this nonsense?!"

Perplexed, both Tony and Bruce turned and looked at the annoyed woman in the doorway. A disdained Pepper shook her head. "You're behaving like preschoolers; this is downright embarrassing. What's gotten into you?" At the last part of her sentence, she specifically glared at Tony, who in turn huffed and pointed at Bruce the same time. "This guy's got the nerve to come up to my house and insult me – he's gonna get it. Period."

Pepper felt the need to roll her eyes, but glanced over at Bruce instead.  
The taller man stared past her into the living room area of the mansion; his jaw set and his eyes hard.  
"From what I can see, it rather looks like _you're_ about to get it, pal."

He pointed his chin towards the large glass front in the back. Tony and Pepper followed his line of vision. Across the ocean, sounds and outlines of three helicopters with civilian news and tour logos on the side approached the mansion. With a frown, Tony abandoned his fighting position and walked back into his living room to get a better view on the commotion outside his house.

When Pepper was about to follow him, she was stopped by a hand on her wrist. Bruce's eyes bore into hers.  
"That’s why I’m here. You need to get into safety, and quick. Come with me."  
She shook her head, and at the same time her wrist, to pry off his hand.

"Just leave me alone Bruce. Isn’t that what you wanted anyhow?"  
With these words she turned and left him standing in the doorway when Tony called her name.   
The Gotham billionaire ground his teeth, before he trailed after them into the villa. 

“Looks like our typical paparazzi parasites to me. Hey, give a little wave for the camera Pep, before I go in on them in my suit and scare ‘em off.” Pepper’s gut feeling did not mix well with Tony’s clowning around in front of the large couch. The helicopters were meanwhile circling the complete window front. “I don’t like this, Tony. Don’t aggravate them further. Let’s go somewhere else, maybe they’ll give up soon.” 

Without warning, the cabin doors of all choppers cracked open, like stabilizer wings, and exposed heavy mounted armaments. It did not take Tony or Pepper long to figure out they were in fact armed to the teeth, and had just exposed their lethal goal in the form of a surprise attack. Stunned and rooted to the spot, the two of them watched in horror as the first fired rounds of missiles made their way into their direction.

A voice from behind shook them out of their state of shock.  
“GET THE HELL OUT NOW!”  
They swung around and saw Bruce Wayne pointing into the direction of the open main door.

Something in Tony then clicked, and he grabbed Pepper’s upper arm.  
“GO!”  
His hindsight came too late.

The first detonation rolled over them like a tidal wave of exploding concrete, dust and debris. The heavy impact hurled Tony and Pepper through the air and forcefully cut their connection, leaving the billionaire to slam backwards in such an ungentle way that made his head ring, and had him seeing stars for a split second. The noise was overwhelming, and the room almost instantly filled with dark, heavy smoke.

Tony coughed against the dirt that penetrated his lungs, rolled onto his feet, and frantically looked around for Pepper. He had to blink rapidly against the multicolored flashes that obscured his vision. When he spotted a flash of reddish-blond hair and a checked blouse crouching several feet across from him underneath the splinted coffee table, he wobbly started off into her direction.

All the time, Tony frantically tried to activate the cognitive control program, to get the suit to protect at least Pepper from getting hurt. When he felt the first waves of another, full blown panic attack crash upon him, Tony Stark knew he would fail her; most likely for the very last time in their lives. He choked up on a mixture of debris, saliva and tears as his mansion got blown to pieces all around them.

From where he had thrown himself back into the entrance hall, Bruce Wayne escaped the brunt of the first assault wave unharmed. His frantic yells at Pepper and Stark to follow him got drowned out by the ear-deafening crescendo all around, and Bruce felt the Batman pressing close to the surface. When he could not waste any more time, the Gotham billionaire managed to scramble out of the door, before one of the walls partly collapsed behind him.

He shook his vision clear from concrete dust as he sprinted towards the ragged shoreline that surrounded Stark mansion, and grabbed his spelunking gear that lay hidden in the undergrowth. The earth shook underneath his feet as the second attack wave send a good portion of what used to be Stark’s residence over the cliff. Bruce had to hang on tight and duck further into the rock walls to not get dragged down by the gravity pull.

When he reached the smallish rock cavern where The Bat sat, hidden from view, the Gothamite shed jacket and slacks to expose the Batsuit underneath. He slipped into the seat, pulled the cowl over his head and pressed ignition. With a mighty roar, the armored aircraft sprang to life, and with skilful movements, the Batman maneuvered it out of the cavern and onwards into the battle scene.

Before two of the three helicopters were able to target him, they collided with each other whilst trying to outmaneuver the gigantic, black customized aircraft which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The remaining chopper continued to fire at the gaping hole amidst the foundation of the mansion. The Batman cast a glance at the detection device screen, and saw two living bodies still inside the wreckage.

He engaged The Bat's dual-anchored machine guns to deter the helicopter from pursuing its target, and blocked its line of fire. When the helicopter opened fire at him, the dark knight narrowed his eyes. His fingers clenched around the release button to the side panel rocket launchers; aware that a direct hit would result in the complete destruction of his opponent. Before he was forced to make the decision, the terrorists seemed to have received a retreat signal and veered off.

He took his thumb away from the launch to pull The Bat up, performed a clean 180-degree-turn, and hovered close to the war zone that once was Stark’s house. From where he overlooked the scenery, the Batman saw a wavering Stark pick up the unmoving figure of Pepper Potts. The other man blinked up into the dust-filled air and cast confused eyes to the aircraft above. He protectively cradled her in his arms as the hatch opened, and a dark figure motioned for him to get on board.

“MOVE IT NOW!”

With a tight grip on the unconscious woman, Tony stumbled through rubble and smoldering ashes to plunk into the co-pilot seat behind the unknown creature that had saved their lives. Moments before the last bits of foundation gave way underneath them, The Bat lifted into the air and shuddered as the ground floor crumbled into the ocean. The Batman reached out and pressed two fingers to Pepper’s neck, looking for a pulse.

Tony shifted and tried to hold her as comfortable as possible.  
“Got hit by a piece of rubble, but she’s alive.”  
The creature said nothing and focused back on flying.

Tony wiped at a bleeding gash on his temple with his shoulder and felt woozy. Before he could inquire about the true nature of their savior, or the fact that he would very much like to know where the freak was about to take them, Tony Stark also passed out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... obviously, from this point onwards, all bets are off, plot-wise. Oh, and I do know that action sequences and me will never be the biggest friends, no matter how hard I might try. Whatever :-)


	7. Chapter 7

Gotham City, November 2010

 

The last coherent thing Pepper Potts remembered was being thrown to the ground by the first wave of explosions. After that, only blurry images flooded her mind, until her head connected with something hard and caused her to black out. Her eardrums were ringing, and various flashes of light flickered in front of her closed eyes.

At some point, a jostling movement shook her back into semi-consciousness, and she struggled to stay awake. The deafening noise all around had died down and gotten replaced by a muffled silence. Pepper felt herself being lifted from a warm spot, and pressed up against something hard and cold. Slight panic set in, but before she managed to catch a glimpse of her surroundings, darkness claimed her once more.

The dark knight stared down at the unconscious woman in his arms, whom he carried her over to an examining table at the cave. His mouth was set into a grim line as he ran her vitals through a medical scanner; relieved to find no internal injuries. His diagnosis was a moderate concussion, and he wrapped her into a warm blanket after tending to various bruises with surprising gentleness.

Sounds then erupted from the cockpit of The Bat and made him turn around.

As Tony Stark came to with a groan and a start, his first reaction was panic. He freaked out when Pepper was nowhere in sight, and all he saw was a dashboard with foreign, strange electronics. Tony peeled his aching body out of the cramped confines of a hard carbon fiber seat, swayed for a moment and tried to find his balance.

He stumbled out of the unknown object to land on a cold, concrete floor. Tony shook his head and blinked several times at the unfamiliar surroundings, before he unsteadily rose from his kneeling position. The creature that had brought them there stood with its back to him, leaning over an examination table, and Tony recognized the sneakers which poked out from a blanket.

“Pepper!”  
The Batman swung around to glower at his unwanted guest with barely restrained anger.  
“You almost got her killed! Goddamn fool!”

Tony wiped at the encrusted blood on his eyebrow and pointed at the masked man. “Whoa there - I don’t know who, or what weirdo you are. Though I’m glad for your help, I want you to move away from her. Now.” In a flash, the Batman growled and advanced on him, grabbed the shorter man by the lapels of his tattered jacket, and slammed him backwards into The Bat.

“You bastard should never be allowed to come near her for the rest of your life!”

The dark knight snarled at a weakened Stark who struggled in his grip. He wished for nothing more then to take his rage and frustration out on the man who seemed to have something that Bruce Wayne did not possess. Something that made Pepper Potts chose him over a life with the prince of Gotham City.

Large brown eyes stared up at him, a mixture of fear and determination swirling within them.  
“Over my dead body, you freak.”  
The Batman bared his teeth at that, and applied more pressure to the other man’s windpipe.  
  
“ _That_ can be arranged.”

A dark part of him enjoyed how the gasping sounds and squirming increased while Stark clawed at the vise-like grip. The billionaire’s toes meanwhile just barely touched the ground. Maybe if he just squeezed a little harder, just applied a little more pressure… nobody would ever know…

“…Bruce…?”

A weak voice from the examination table made him stop dead in his tracks.

The Batman released his rival to crumble back down to the ground in a coughing heap. He turned around to find Pepper’s head turned towards them, her eyes open but unfocussed. In a few strides, he was by her side, keeping an eye on the med scan for any unforeseen changes on her status.

Weak, the young woman tried to smile up at him. His eyes softened a little behind the cowl, even though he did not say a word, and just adjusted the blanket over her shivering form. “Thank you for saving us.” Pepper coughed against a rough throat, and the Batman shook his head as if to stop her from speaking.

She proceeded to look around his muscular form, to assure herself of Tony’s well-being. When the small movement made her dizzy, however, she stopped and shut her eyes again.

“Bruce? As in... Bruce Wayne? You gotta be shitting me!”  
At Tony’s incredulous voice, Pepper reopened them, staring up into the stoic countenance of the dark knight.  
She bit her lip, but it was too late.

Bruce Wayne did not want to dwell on what was worse: Having Gotham City hunting the Batman like a wanted criminal, or Tony Stark knowing who the Batman was underneath the mask. He figured it was the latter. With no other option, Bruce then pulled the cowl off with a slow movement and a sigh. He ran a hand through sweat-dampened, dusty hair before he wiped at the black camouflage paint around his eyes in resignation and looked at Pepper.

She frowned up at him with contrite.  
He shook his head with a grim expression and threw the cowl next to her.  
“This day officially went from worse to disastrous. Now we’re more than even.”

The sound of his normal voice paired with the menacing Batsuit was peculiar, and reminded Pepper of the night they ended their relationship on a very sad note. “I never wanted it to end like that Bruce, despite what you think. We were good together, just not… good enough.”  
  
He removed a glove when Pepper reached out for his hand. As he took her cold fingers in his, Bruce remembered them intertwined with his; during that one, magical night at Miami Beach so many months ago, and smiled with a hint of sorrow. “If times and things were different, we might have been. I have no regrets, except for the way it ended.”

Very few things rendered Tony Stark speechless these days.  
The fact that Bruce Wayne -smarmy billionaire airhead from Gotham City- was the notorious Batman was one of them.

After his initial shock had passed, Tony fought against an underlying feeling of jealousy upon seeing Wayne close to Pepper again. He cleared his throat and probed the area where the masked lunatic had tried to strangle him. Tony then stood up and braced himself against The Bat.

“Sorry to interrupt your tender li'l moment, but I’m bleeding all over the carpet here.”  
  
Alarmed, Pepper attempted to sit up, only to get stopped by Bruce. The Gotham billionaire shook his head to indicate the other man was exaggerating and turned around with a weary look on his face. “It's just a couple of scratches. Fortune favors fools in your case.”

Tony huffed with scorn, walked closer to them and pointed his index finger at him. “Does denial of assistance ring any bells with you, Wayne? Ah, probably not since you’re so fond of beating people to a pulp as a flying rodent.”

With a lopsided sneer Bruce indicated his head towards the other man and looked at his ex-fiancée. “I don’t know how you are able to put up with _this_ on a daily basis.” The Gothamite then walked over to a well-stocked first aid kit, picked it up and flung the item at Stark with force. Tony caught it, though not without an offended look on his face.

“Help yourself, Tin Man. If you’re able to, that is. Didn’t look like you could, earlier on.”

Tony looked from Pepper to Bruce and back. With a grim frown, he shoved the kit underneath his arm, shuffled over to where she lay and took her hand in his. His brown eyes shone suspiciously all of a sudden. “I’m sorry, Pep. So fucking sorry for putting you in harm’s way. Wish I could undo the past hours, but I can’t. I hope you can forgive me for not being able to protect you.”

He let his head sink down on her shoulder and started to heave some deep breaths. It took Pepper a couple of moments to realize the spot on her blouse was getting wet from the silent, bitter tears he shed. Tears for her, for his home with the bots, for their lives turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

With slow and cautious motions, she started to stroke his mop of hair that was encrusted with dust and blood.

***

Unbeknownst to them, Bruce Wayne had walked away to rid himself of the Batsuit.

He disappeared behind The Bat and leaned against the hull of the mighty aircraft for one moment; as adrenaline ran out and pain kicked in. With slow moves, he peeled off the Kevlar shell elements until he was clad in boxers, and slipped on some spare clothes and shoes. He gave a pain-filled hiss as he adjusted the metal knee bracket on his leg, where it had started to penetrate an area of irritated flesh around a mass of purplish bruises.

When Tony’s catharsis had oozed out, he wiped with scorn at his eyes and busied himself with the first aid kit. Pepper had to reassure him a couple of times she did not feel worse and did not require any further medical attention. She watched him wipe down his most prominent bruises and cuts with sterile patches, and told him which needed further attention.

“Promise to not rile him up any further. Bruce is a good man, and we owe him our lives.”

His glum eyes flickered from her to their surroundings and back. Tony gave a humorless laugh and looked down to his feet. “Guess what – I think your Batguy has a change of heart. Heck, he wouldn’t have let a building collapse on you. You might wanna reconsider your decision, Pep.”

Without putting too much pressure on her throbbing left shoulder, Pepper shifted and blinked up at him. “You know, there’s this other guy on my mind – a real bright spark with a big heart, but a bit slow off the mark when it comes to what women really want.”

Tony mulled over her words for a moment and snapped the first aid kit shut with a lopsided smile. “I’m not gonna be on Wayne’s Christmas card list for many reasons this year; that much's certain.” His longtime companion brushed her fingers against his arm as a guarded smile found its way upon Pepper’s lips.

“Guess not. But with all those striking parallels in your lives...”

The sound of a cleared throat shook them out of their conversation as Bruce reappeared, dressed in casual black slacks and t-shirt. He looked at them huddled together and schooled his face into an unreadable, blank mask. “I think you should get some rest upstairs; probably for the next couple of days at that. Nobody’s going to question your absences anyhow, after today.”

The realization they were most likely to be presumed dead hit both Pepper and Tony at the same time. The billionaire grimaced. “Shit – Rhodey's probably one of the first they’ll contact. And Happy – what if Happy wakes up only to be told we’re sleeping with the fishes?” At his poor wording Pepper shushed him and tried to concentrate, despite her pounding headache. “There has to be a way to at least contact Jim, and get him to inform Happy and someone at SI as well.”

Bruce listened to them talking about people he did not know and crossed muscular arms before his chest. “If I were you, I’d rather not be blowing my cover yet and have the public and simultaneously A.I.M. know you’re still alive.” The three of them were silent for a moment.

Finally Tony pursed his lips and stood up. “Gotta point there, but we have to find a way to contact Rhodey. We owe him that much and he’ll keep his mouth shut.” He looked down at Pepper for confirmation, until the young woman nodded and cast her ex-fiancé a questioning glance. Bruce responded with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

“Your choice. Try to think of a way then, because I don’t need extra attention of A.I.M. around Gotham – one close call’s enough.” With a curious frown Tony regarded the taller man. “They’ve come for you as well? What for? And here I thought I was groundbreaking with threatening them live on TV.”

The Gothamite walked over to the control station and pressed a button to start the recharging process of The Bat. “Not my style. A.I.M. tried to draw me out by sending someone to break in and steal my fingerprints. I guess I wasn’t in Maya Hansen’s initial firing line to begin with.”

That caught the other billionaire by surprise, and Tony tore curious eyes away from the sight of the mighty custom aircraft being hooked up to various hoses and electronic gear. “Huh? You’re not making sense there, Wayne. What’s Maya of all people gotta do with this whole shebang?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “Maya Hansen and her Extremis project. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. She tried to sell it to me on Capri under the guise of A.I.M. and her boss, Aldrich Killian. Doesn't ring any bells?”

At that, Pepper chimed in from her spot on the examination table and both men turned around to face her. “Aldrich Killian and I briefly worked together after college, a long time ago. He initially asked for Tony's support on his projects, only to be shunned and ignored and now… taking revenge, apparently.”

Bruce shook his head in exasperation as Tony squinted hard in disbelief.  
“Really? Definitely don’t remember that. Guess I was right in not supporting him then. Nutcase.”  
Pepper and Bruce shared a look that spoke volumes before the Gotham billionaire held up his hands.

“Enough of this. Pepper needs a more comfortable place to rest. Let’s get upstairs.” An awkward situation occurred, when both men made a move to lift her up into their respective arms. Bruce sternly glowered at Tony. “You’re in no condition to carry her. Go get the elevator.”

About to protest, Tony glimpsed at Pepper who looked frail and drained before he relented. “Only this once, Batguy. Where’s the exit to this dark room extravaganza?” Bruce slipped his arms underneath the woman he had shared the past year with and lifted her into a secure embrace. “Down the stairs and right up front. Why don’t you use whatever flashlight you’re hiding underneath that shirt to lighten the way?”

Stark trudged on, but not without giving him a very rotten stare. He had to brace himself on the banister every second step. Pepper rested her heavy head against Bruce’s broad shoulder as he carried her across the gangway towards the elevator with care. She noticed for the first time how his limp had visibly diminished.

Too tired to inquire about the reasons for it, she let her eyelids droop again and listened to the sounds of the elevator. Before they re-entered the room with the piano and the secret bookshelf entrance, she was near asleep with exhaustion. She missed how Bruce lowered her on a bed, murmured a few words to Tony and left them alone soon after.

The two of them all but passed out on the spacious antique pine king-size bed; subconsciously rolling closer towards each other in their sleep.

***

The next day found them still very much in pain and exhausted, but all more aware of how close they had come within a whisker of dying. Tony held a sobbing Pepper as her own catharsis released itself and tears ran down her face as she thought about the mansion that was destroyed and the world assumed they were dead.

Weak from dehydration and pangs of hunger, they realized after a while how someone had seen to the delivery of beverages and a variety of foods which stood waiting on a serving cart near the door. They ate and drank and fell into another slumber until a large wooden floor clock in the corner roused them around noon.

Pepper grimaced at their disheveled and dirty appearances and probed getting up. She was glad to find the crippling dizziness from last night mostly gone and was left with an all over, sore feeling. Since most of her belongings were still stashed somewhere at Wayne Manor, she could rely on clean spare clothes after a long overdue shower.

She instructed Tony to wait up for her at the guestroom until she had come up with a set of spare clothes for him as well. “I don’t like you running around sporting a concussion. And I highly object to wearing Wayne’s skivvies while we’re at it!”  
With a stern glare, Pepper disappeared to wander off into the familiar wing of the Manor. Once more she wondered with concern about Alfred’s whereabouts.

She knocked at what used to be Bruce’s and her mutual master bedroom, but did not receive an answer. When she entered, the room was empty and looked as if it had been unused during the night. Her belongings were still the way she had left them after her hasty departure days ago, and Pepper took all necessary items with her into the adjourning master bathroom where she locked the door.

The warm water helped to ease some of the dull pain in her aching bones, and she took her time until she felt clean again. After she had slipped into more comfortable clothes and brushed her teeth, she unlocked the door thirty minutes later. With the tattered and dirty clothes balled up underneath her arm she nearly collided with Bruce Wayne in the doorway.

“Sorry, I… didn’t expect company in here.”  
His face was pale and tired, and he wore the same clothes as the previous night.  
Pepper mustered the slight shade of stubble on his cheeks and chin and began to apologize profusely.

“No, I’m sorry, Bruce - I just needed fresh clothes, and I didn’t know where else…”  
With a defensive laugh, he waved her off.  
“Pepper, please. You’ve basically shared this room with me, not even a week ago.”

He looked away with a brief squint and coughed, before his eyes found hers again. “We will have your clothes transferred to wherever you want, after this is done. For the moment, we can get them into another room so you don’t have to come in here all the time.”

Pepper stared at her feet, mumbled thanks on her lips, before she mustered up the courage to ask him for something to give to Tony so his clothes could get cleaned. A mechanical nod was her answer as Bruce ever so lightly limped over to his closet. He opened it and made a sweeping gesture for her to help herself.

When he was about to disappear in the bathroom, Pepper stared at his back for a moment, her hands full with a small selection for Tony. “Bruce?” The Gotham billionaire turned around. A brief flash of misery darted across his distinctive features before he caught himself.  
  
“Yes?”  
Pepper pressed her lips together as she glanced at his leg and back up at his face.  
“Your leg – is it getting better? You’re not using the cane, and didn’t when you were out that night either...”  
  
He cocked his head and gave her one of his guarded, trademark smiles. “Let’s just say I found a way to cope with it.” Before he closed the door behind him, and before Pepper had the chance to mull over the ambiguity of his words, Bruce asked her to get Tony to meet him in the study at 1PM.

The latter groused at her pickings, but let her shoo him off into the bathing facilities adjacent to their current room. Pepper winced as Tony peeled himself out of his tattered sweater with great effort and revealed more nasty looking bruises on his back. During his shower, she used rash cream for her own cuts and abrasions that paved shins, knees and forearms. A small band aid hid the gash on her forehead, and Pepper took two painkillers with a glass of water.

Tony reappeared in the doorway twenty minutes later, hair still wet, and looking miserable in a pair of gray slacks and a black sweater, both several sizes to big. “This is unacceptable and highly humiliating; I just want you to know that.”

Pepper had to suppress a smile as she watched him roll up the sleeves and the legs of his pants. It looked as if Tony Stark had been playing dress up in his taller brother’s closet. “Duly noted. At least it’s clean and keeps you covered. I don’t even think Bruce ever wore these, so…”

He made a cutting gesture with his hand, shook his head and scrunched up his nose. “I don’t wanna know, really I don’t. So, uh, what’s next? Play cricket in the botanic gardens? Geez this place is… I don’t know. Creepy if you ask me.”

Pepper walked past him to collect the dirty clothes he had strewn haphazardly onto the bathroom floor, and shot him a meaningful look. “Bruce wants to meet you in half an hour downstairs in the study, and I want you to play nice, Anthony Stark. But for now come here – there are more bruises on you which I need to look at.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for a rather 'meh' chapter. I fail to edit the kinks without doing a complete rewrite.

It ultimately took a lot of arm-twisting from Pepper to motivate Tony to meet with the other billionaire.

Tony left her in their designated guest room to rest and meandered through the vast corridors of Wayne Manor alone, according to her directions. He rapped at the door to the study, and entered without bothering to wait. It made him catch the moment Bruce Wayne rolled down his slacks over a grueling metal torture instrument around his left knee.

Tony frowned in suspicion as he closed the door behind him. The Gothamite shot him an irritated look before he stood up from a small couch. Stark did not fail to notice how the other man gave a slight grimace when he put his weight on the leg in question.

“Yes, why don’t you come in. _Already_.” Sarcasm evident in his voice, Bruce made his way over to a large, massive wooden table. Tony shoved his hands into the pockets of the slacks, but had to tug them up again as they slid down dangerously low. He then cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry I'm late, I didn't wanna come.” Bruce kept an indignant response to himself and sat down.

With arms crossed in front of his chest and a stroke to his goatee, Tony nodded to himself with a thoughtful expression as he mustered Wayne. “You know what keeps going through my head though?” Bruce's weary glance flickered over to him; daring Tony to irk him further. The shorter man pointed his index finger towards Bruce with narrowed eyes.

“… you don’t even _know_ how to play Polo.”  
Caught by surprise, Bruce had to smirk despite the situation. He shrugged.  
“Never played a single game in my life.”

Tony gave a small victorious sound at his correct deductions and walked over to take a seat opposite from Wayne. His face twisted in pain as he leaned back in the chair and tried to gloss over his own discomfort. Both men fell silent for a couple of seconds and tried to find a start. “Now what? Wanna exchange some awesome superhero-related anecdotes?”  
  
Bruce cast him a reprimanding look and shook his head in exasperation.  
“Is everything a joke to you, after all that happened?”  
Tony averted his eyes, stared at the desktop and plucked at a splinter.  
  
“Funny things are.”  
With a defiant shrug of his shoulders he continued before Bruce could interfere.  
“Almost losing Pepper isn’t. But payback’s a bitch, man, believe me.”

When he looked back up, Bruce Wayne saw undisguised thirst for revenge pool in Tony Stark’s eyes, and recognized the feeling from his own, personal arsenal of hidden emotions. “So then let’s compile facts. There’s a connection between Maya Hansen and A.I.M. What did you do that they want to wipe you out?”

When Tony looked back down at the table his fingers traced the wooden texture. “Jealous of my good looks? Seriously, I dunno. Maya and I have known each other since university. Helped her out with a project of hers over ten years ago, at a conference in Switzerland. Back then she was onto this project called Extremis. Bio-technical stuff; a virus that enhances human abilities to the infinite, if done right. If not, it gets ugly. Turned out Maya didn’t have the correct formula for it back then.”

Bruce sized him up.  
“But you had it.”  
Tony gave a smirk.

“You betcha. Didn’t think it’d come back to bite me in the butt, but there we have it.”

The Gothamite nodded and glanced out of the window behind Tony. “I’ve looked into the details of the attack of your employee in L.A. Which was the reason for that whole TV threat issue if I’m not mistaken?” He watched Stark form a fist as his mouth became a grim line. “He’s not my employee, he’s one of my best friends. These bastards nearly killed him.”

Bruce did not comment on the emotional display. “Fact is: I don’t think we’re talking about booby traps here, just as the police wants people to believe. Considering all facts, it must be something else that's been highly explosive.” Tony gnawed at his soul patch as his astute mind closed the missing gap to Bruce’s initial train of thought.

“…or maybe rather _someone_ highly explosive? Like, someone being infected with…”  
Bruce’s voice resounded with his, as both men came to a final conclusion.  
“… Extremis.”

The look they shared bordered on something close to mutual respect, at the rush of getting closer to the gist. It passed as quickly as it had come, and Bruce continued to think aloud. “Now let’s see: We’ve got the attack on your friend and my stolen fingerprints. Both deliberate acts to draw each one of us out. You for shunning Killian and me for rejecting Maya Hansen’s Extremis project…”

Tony nodded along and started to drum his fingers on the desk. Wayne might have been the tactician who meticulously thought ahead, but Tony was the inventor who wanted to get productive. “In any case we need to stop Killian and his army of Extremis soldiers. If he’s planning on sending out more of those human bombs into the public, we’ll soon have a problem.”

Bruce eyed him and noticed his fidgeting. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms before his chest.  
“We have to assume Killian has a bigger plan than just the two of us.”  
Diabolical, Tony raised an eyebrow and gave his best, deep super villain voice.  
  
“Like taking over the world, one Extremis at a time?”  
That time Bruce did not even try to hide the roll of his eyes. He placed flat palms on the desktop and pushed himself up.  
“Come on shellhead, time to get to work.”  
  
Now Tony wiggled his eyebrows and also rose, but with a lopsided grin. “Why you’re no fun, Batsy. Are we going to that super secret cave now? You’ve got some decent looking toys down there I’d really like to get my hands on.” Bruce shot him a warning glare and marched on.  
  
“One: Don’t call me that again. Two: You don’t mess with my stuff. Third: If one or two apply, I won’t guarantee for anything.”  
Tony casually strolled after him, held his hands up in mock surrender and whistled a friendly, nondescript tune.  
“Alrighty then.”

***

After getting in another two hours of solid sleep, Pepper Potts felt more refreshed and ready. Tony was still absent, and she hoped Bruce did not have him bound and gagged in a closet somewhere. As her gaze fell through the window out into the foggy grayness around the Manor, a moving silhouette caught her attention.

She soon identified the peculiar sight as a lonely horse that cantered around a fenced area across the vast green acres of the Palisades, and made a mental note to ask Bruce about it later on. In the meantime, she wanted to take care of something that had been on her mind for the longest time.

With the feeling of doing something wrong and forbidden, Pepper made her way over to what used to be the private quarters of Alfred Pennyworth. The rooms were meticulously neat and showed no signs of many personal belongings. With a sad smile, she remembered how she had left her own condo in California in a similar state, back in the days.

Her fingers brushed past some framed, sepia-colored picture which showed a young Bruce around the age of eight or ten. Intuitively, Pepper reached out to take the heavy silver frame into her hands. At the serious little face that looked up at the camera her gaze softened; some twenty years later the Bruce she got to know still wore the exact same expression. She put the frame back and started to look for clues Alfred might have left before he fled from the Manor with her.

Pepper avoided to dig into the too personal closets and drawers, and headed for an expensive, ancient mahogany escritoire instead. She sifted through each drawer and several stacks of papers, until she stumbled across a small leather book that turned out to be a hand-written phone dictionary. The redhead sank down in the chair in front of the furniture and started thumbing through the pages in hopes of finding a trace.

Half an hour later, their guestroom as well as the study room left her with no sign from either Tony or Bruce, and Pepper began to get antsy. She tried to remember the little melody Alfred had used to get access to the hidden elevator behind the book shelf, but to no avail. With a resigned sigh, Pepper sat down on the piano bench and rubbed her aching shoulder.

Just then, noises from behind the wall erupted and got louder, until the secret door plopped open with a creak. She looked up into the still tired but surprised countenance of Bruce. “I wanted to check on whether the two of you have already killed each other or not.” He took in how she massaged her shoulder and went up to her with a thoughtful look.

“I’m containing myself, but it’s hard. Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”  
With a small, reassuring smile she shook her head and stood up.  
Despite some hesitation, Bruce eventually showed her the key melody and let her into the elevator alone.

Used to the rattling cubicle, Pepper stepped out into the dark premises of the gigantic cave system and found Tony atop The Bat on the large platform. He was straddling one of its huge front propellers whilst his nimble fingers fiddled with a tangle of cables that led from inside the aircraft over to the huge computer system station in the back.

At the approaching footsteps he raised his head, expecting it to be Wayne. When he realized it was her, Tony’s face shifted into a huge smile and he waved for her to come up. After she climbed up the small stairway, Pepper regarded the nasty laceration near his right eye with concern. Before she could object to it, Tony spoke up. “Hey, finally someone more talkative! I seriously considered training some of the little critters up there, since Wayne is nothing but a shitty socializer. How are you?”

Pepper suppressed a small shiver at the cold dampness of the cave and slung the cardigan tight around her waist. “Okay. You look like you should take it easy though; people who survive a house collapse usually don’t go prancing around on aircraft the next day.” Tony shrugged and twisted around to fasten something inside the large vessel.

“Don’t have no time for R&R. I need to make use of whatever advantage I have to stop these freaks.”

The inventor hopped off the propeller and walked over to the mainframe station. Pepper peeked over his shoulder, and saw myriads of code numbers run across the screens in a matrix-like fashion. At her questioning glance, he tried to offer an understandable explanation without going off into prodigy mode. “I’m trying to get access to Jarvis. Wayne’s tech here could be helpful to assemble a jerry-rigged construction to get a signal through to the mansion.”

Pepper pressed her lips together. If she thought he was on the verge of losing his mind, after everything that had happened, she tried hard not to let her concern for his mental sanity show. “The mansion’s gone, Tony. How would Jarvis have…” she pondered her choice of words. “… survived the attack?”

A determined shake of the head was her answer. “They may have destroyed the surface, but not what’s underneath. Trust me, Pep. All I need is some more time.” His eyes roamed across the cave. “Besides…it’s not the first time I gotta slap something together in a cave, so don’t worry. The scraps are far more high-end this time, and no one’s holding a gun to my head… yet.”

Tony then turned to The Bat, and Pepper let him escape. She figured whatever flashbacks were going to threaten him soon would rather be about Afghanistan instead of New York. In a way, she was grateful for Bruce’s imminent return to the scene. Wayne dumped a box full of cables, electronic clutter and tools on the workbench next to the shorter man and glanced at them both.

He ran a hand through his hair and mustered his exploited aircraft with a wary eye. Even though the Gothamite did not endorse working with his contender in his secret sanctum, he seemed to keep his temper in check. “The WE navigational satellite systems are all online. They’re operating on binary code only. Try using whatever frequency you’re reaching on current connection.”

Tony frowned in disdain. To express his ingratitude, he threw a screwdriver aside moments later, to let it bounce off the hull of the Bat in the process. “The system futzed out five minutes ago, and all I have left is friggin’ electromagnetic interference. If I wanna be able to reach anything outside a sad two mile radius of this hellhole, I definitely need a crystal clear connection.”

The Gotham billionaire sat down in front of his high tech computer system and examined the program Stark ran through his mainframe. He palmed his jaw and shrugged. “Then you have to work with whatever emittance from EMR frequency there is. All you need to do is to be able to map the dimensions by measuring impulse responses in order to get through to whatever you want to reach back there. The Wayne Enterprises satellite systems are not part of that procedure - and frankly, I’d rather not have them running on Stark Industries servers. I’m sure you understand why.”

Annoyed at the lecturing tone, Tony cast him a dirty look. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pulled a face. “Well hey, thanks for the physical digression there, _Professor_ Wayne. Why don’t you stop insulting my intelligence and get me the stuff I need?” The comment made Bruce get up from his chair and turn towards Tony. He pointed his index finger at him, scornful.

“If you were half as intelligent as you boast about, then you wouldn’t be in this mess like the sitting duck you are. So just cut the crap, Stark, and do something useful for once.” Tony threw the latest patch of cables down to the ground, and stepped up to meet Wayne in the middle of the platform, brow furrowed in anger.

He pushed himself up to equal out the difference in height, and was almost in Bruce’s face as the taller man continued to stare down at him with an unimpressed, arrogant expression. The shorter billionaire nodded with a malicious look in his eyes before he gave a small shove to Bruce’s chest.

“Wow, you’re really starting to piss me off Wayne, ya know? Most useful would be to beat the crap out of you. And actually, that’s what’s on my mind for quite some time now...” Tony lurched forward with a big swing, ready to deliver a forceful punch. Bruce responded with a quick side-stepping move, making the other billionaire only hit air.

In a swift motion, too fast for Pepper to analyze, he then sent Tony down to the ground with a blow to the back.  
“HEY, HEY, HEY! STOP IT – _BOTH_ OF YOU!”  
She waved into the direction of the erupted riot. 

Her indignant shout made Bruce take his eyes off the man on the ground to glimpse into her direction, and it was all the distraction Tony needed. With swiftness and expertise, he extended his right leg, swiveled sideways and delivered a sweeping kick that pulled the ground away underneath the taller man.

Bruce did a smooth roll to the right and got back on his feet. Tony followed suit, and also assumed a respective fighting stance. As both men circled each other in undisguised anger, Pepper threw her hands in the air with frustration. “Okay, FINE! I’m not going to stand here and watch this idiocy any longer. Go, bash your heads in, for what it’s worth - I don’t care. I’m out!”

With these words she stomped off and left the two billionaires alone.  
Bruce was the first to focus back on his opponent.  
His eyes narrowed in on Tony as his lips curled with jeer.

“Now let’s see if your fighting’s as pathetic as your one-liners.”  
Tony pushed his sleeves higher up his forearms and made a come-hither gesture.  
“Enjoy the air up on your high horse while it lasts, Wayne.”

With these words they went for each other, heads and martial arts styles colliding.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the 'He's the goddamn Batman' rule for any fight scenes that may exist out there, but I tried to refrain from mixing Nolanverse Bruce with his comic counterparts in this one. (that aside, I wouldn't mind seeing the respective actors going up against each other... shirtless... oil wrestling... *innocent whistle*)

Inwardly Bruce was surprised at the way Tony Stark held himself and put up a decent fight, despite taking many hits during their tough but fair match. While Wayne was taller, heavier, and far more experienced in hand-to-hand combat, Stark managed to use spur of the moment movements to ever so often catch Bruce by surprise, and allowed him to get the occasional hit in.

About ten minutes into their fight, and after sending Stark sailing down to the ground in what Bruce supposed was the tenth time, he felt his knee bracket coming loose. Without the stability of the metal construction, Bruce shifted his weight onto his good leg, but Tony’s next move came too fast for him to dodge. He went down backwards, head connecting hard with the metal platform, and managed to turn and roll over onto his side only by instinct.

The broken bracket slid out of his trouser leg and clattered to the floor in two pieces. Bruce panted as his eyes darted around, trying to think of a way to gain back ground. At the same time he was very much aware he would not be unable to get back on his feet without assistance. Stark haltered his steps as his opponent went down, and the odds shifted in Tony’s favor. The shorter man wiped the back of his hand across the corner of his mouth where he felt the metallic taste of blood.

His eyes shifted between the strange, metal prosthesis and the man on the floor. What he saw there in Bruce Wayne’s face was masked pain and unmasked anger; anger that was surprisingly not directed at him. Tony let his arms sink, assumed a neutral position and cast the other man a pensive look. Bruce ground his teeth and pushed himself up into a half-sitting position despite the heavy bouts of cramping erupting from his leg.

“What, no snarky remark?”  
Tony stepped over to the billionaire on the ground and extended his hand towards him.  
“Maybe next time. Right now I’d rather go and check what’s left of my spleen. Come on.”

Bruce did not make a move to grab the hand in front of his face and grunted with scorn.  
“I don’t want your darn pity.”  
Impatient Tony bent down and pulled at Bruce’s arm.

Due to the difference in height and weight he did not achieve much, apart from nearly losing his own footing.  
“Oh, cry me a fuckin’ river. Stop behaving like you do and get up.”  
That brought the desired effect, and together, they managed to get Bruce back onto his feet.

With great effort and contribution from Tony, Wayne hobbled over to lean against the workbench. He cast a dark stare back to his useless knee bracket prototype, felt Stark’s eyes on him and snorted; angered at the weakness he unwillingly displayed. “The odds were in your favor but you pulled out. Why?” Tony leaned next to him, though in respective distance, and regarded his swollen left wrist with a lopsided smirk.

“I’m not one for foul play, despite what people like you think bout me.”  
The Gotham billionaire harrumphed and shifted his weight. His fingers came up to probe a sore spot on his jaw.  
“Right now I think you’re probably not the complete asshole I’ve pegged you for.”

Stubborn, Tony raised his head and looked at the other man. Bruce avoided his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest instead.  
“Same here – even though you’ll never be my favorite sparring partner. At least Happy lets me win with less effort on my part.”  
Both men stared along the semi-darkness of the cave in silence. Then Tony pointed his chin towards the destroyed knee bracket.

“And that thing definitely needs an upgrade.”  
Bruce made a tired, sweeping gesture towards it with his right arm.  
“Knock yourself out. Seems like I’m not going anywhere without it.”

He watched Tony stroll over to bent down and pick up the mangled piece of metal. Twisting and turning it in his hands Stark pursed his lips after a moment. “Here’s how it goes: I’ll hook you up with a Stark makeshift creation to help you leap through the cave in no time, and you'll get me temporary but full access to those satellite systems of yours. Deal?”

With the reminders of the bracket in one hand, the inventor walked back up to stand in front of Bruce and extended the other. After a moment, the taller man mimicked the lopsided smile of his involuntary partner, accepted the peace offering and took the proffered hand. They shared a look which made it clear a truce had been called for time being.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

***

Upstairs in one of the many social rooms, Pepper fumed. She took a rest from pacing the thick, hand-woven carpet in sharp turns, and looked at the large clock on the wall. Nearly an hour had passed after her leave, and no word from either man since then. In her mind, she saw Bruce ripping out Tony’s ARC reactor; saw Tony levering out Bruce’s kneecap and kicking him over the platform into the shallow water of the cave’s lake.

She decided to take the initiative, and equipped herself with a bucket full of cold water from the large halls of the Manor’s kitchen. With caution, Pepper exited the elevator and listened for screams or the like. Apart from the sounds of the roaring waterfall in the back, it was quiet. She gripped the bucket handle tight within her hands and left the sheltered arcades to turn the corner where the huge electronic platform loomed.

The picture that presented itself to Pepper was not one she had expected.  
Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne worked together side by side in peace.  
The Gothamite sat in the open cockpit of The Bat and conversed via headphones with Tony at the mainframe.

Dumbfounded, Pepper watched them interact without so much of interfering at first, the item in her hands forgotten. It fascinated her how seemingly well the two men worked hand in hand, even though they had been at each others throats not even two hours ago. Just then Bruce rose from his seat to exit the cockpit with a smooth jump before he went over to Tony. Pepper then decided to make her presence known.

“I see you haven’t killed each other. Congratulations. One problem less for me.”  
When Tony spotted her, he slipped the headphones off his ears.  
“Hey Pep – we’ve got contact! I spoke with Rhodey and told him we’ve made it.”

Bruce had come to stand behind him and gave the bucket and his ex-fiancée a skeptical look.  
Tony then cocked his head towards the item in her hand.  
“What’s in that bucket?”

With a twinge of embarrassment and one resolute movement, she emptied the contents into the lake to her right.  
“Forget it.”  
Amused, Tony cast a glance upwards at his working partner and Bruce returned the ghost of a smirk.

“Best way to split a dogfight, you have to admit.”  
Tony chuckled and nodded. He watched on as she made her way over to them and crossed his arms before his chest.  
“Why Miss Potts, you wouldn’t have dared to douse us, now would ya?”

She sneered good-naturally as she placed the bucket aside.  
“And here I thought you'd be like two stray dogs fighting over a bone. My bad. Now, where’s Jim?”  
WHen Pepper peeked over Tony’s shoulder, he shook his head.

“Bad connection, but I told him we’re alive, and he needs to inform someone trustworthy at SI, before the board goes insane. Oh, and to play it close to the chest till our return.” She nodded off into the distance before her eyes regarded her silent ex-fiancé with curiosity. “So this means we’re able to access L.A. and the mansion grounds now? Without anyone able to trace back the connection and blow our cover?”

Bruce felt the need to speak up, and gave something between a nod and shrug. “Basically. The other functions Stark wants to run might take more time to assemble.” Tony swiveled to face them, earphones dangling around his neck, and looked from one to the other, exasperated. “How many times do I need to tell you it’s just Tony? Stark was my old man. Anyways, Pep: Once I’m more familiar with Bruce’s tech, we’re gonna install a makeshift version of Jarvis. Gonna be half the battle.”

Pepper’s eyebrows rose in appreciation. Since no one was suspecting Tony to be in Gotham, or Bruce to be the Batman, they could hopefully fix the AI with their combined know-how and expertise. Things were indeed starting to look a little brighter, and more in their favor. The young woman smiled conciliatory at the two men, before she remembered something trivial.

“Oh, Bruce, I haven’t seen that horse outside of the Manor before. What’s up with that?”  
The Gothamite pointed his thumb at a wide-grinning Tony and harrumphed.  
“His housewarming gift. Arrived late, and much to my annoyance.”

Tony tilted his head back and pulled a face. “Well jeez, how was I supposed to know you’re not the Polo-crazed snot everyone's pegged you for, but rather fond of impersonating a humanoid bat? Should’ve been written on the invitations, clearly.” Deadpan, Bruce took the earpieces from around Tony's neck and let them flip back on his ears with a resounding snap. “Stop wisecracking, Tin Man. Focus and get back to work.”

Pepper also took the hint and left; reassured they would make progress sometime soon.  
Before she stepped into the elevator, she called Bruce to get his attention one last time.  
“Does it have a name? The horse I mean?”

At Bruce’s dry-witted comment the name was Iron Maiden, like the instrument of torture, she could not help but to burst out laughing.

*** 

During the short time they had worked together, Tony had come to learn the Wayne Enterprises R&D department was a very interesting division.

Since Bruce had gotten his hands in, it had banged out some impressive little gadgets, including specialized fabrics and materials, electromagnetic gyroscopic navigational satellite systems, an anti-hemorrhagic agent, radiation stamping technology and rotor blades made of metal composites with low radar signature and special acoustic design.

While Tony still thought of himself as the better scientist and inventor, he remembered thinking of Wayne as an airhead before; a douche at the helm of a powerful company, and had to smirk at his wrongful perception.

Bruce worked hard upon the constructed image as the all-American playboy he presented to the outer world. Mostly of course to conceal how he preferred to spend his nights hunching up on rooftops in a black leather suit with cowl and cape. Besides that, he was also a formidable strategist and a gifted technician. Plus, Tony inwardly figured, not many people were able to keep up with his very own razor-sharp wits and motormouth personality, but somehow Wayne seemed to fit the bill.

Where Stark had inherited his brilliant genius by birth, Wayne had been trained in many disciplines to contribute to his intellect and physique; a character trait that Tony was unfamiliar with. Things had always flocked to him automatically instead of having to train or work for them. That in return had left him bored out of his wits from other people's mediocrity most of the time; questioning why there were rules, and how to break them. Wayne, on the other hand, seemed almost hell-bent on doing the right thing, rigid in his moral believes, and almost devoid of emotion when it came to pursuing a goal.

In a way, they counterbalanced each other perfectly.

Bruce thought ahead and predicted moves, where Tony thought outside the box and focused on innovation rather than long-term strategy. The Californian billionaire figured he could learn a thing or two from Wayne, when it came to avoid getting in situations with no backup to his eccentric and unpredictable moves. However, he would rather paint all of his Iron Man suits glittery mauve before admitting any of it out loud to his Gotham counterpart.

After another forty-eight hours, and after witnessing Wayne keel over from exhaustion twice, Tony sent him off to get some rest under the threat of violence. Bruce smirked, saw reason though, and left the Californian genius to tinker for himself in the cave. Even though they meanwhile were on relatively good terms, it still was an enormous leap of faith for the otherwise reserved man. Tony had to promise him several times to leave everything intact.

His yelled remark to Bruce's retreating back about installing some cozy couch element in the back was met with an amicable one-finger salute.

When Pepper brought along a fresh cup of coffee much later that night, she found Tony alone in front of one of Bruce’s many computer screens with an eager look on his face. Only the fact that she started to wave the strong beverage right under his nose brought him out of concentration. She smiled, put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed his neck.

“Making progress?”  
Tony cupped the back of her hand with his palm, took the coffee, and relished a huge first gulp.  
He pointed his chin towards the screen.

“Say hi to Pepper, Jarvis.”

“Hello Miss Potts, how good to see you blueberry.”

She opened her mouth with delight and was about to answer, when she snapped it shut with a baffled look. Tony gave her a lopsided grin.

“Growing pains. Right now I’m just glad he’s back with us.”  
Pepper squeezed his shoulder in affection and smiled at the screen.  
“Hello Jarvis, good to see you too.”

She then bent down and pecked Tony’s stubbly cheek, to which the billionaire briefly closed his eyes.  
“Attaboy. Despite your breakthrough, I see a nap session in your near future. Get upstairs.”  
With a halfhearted nod, Tony continued to sip his coffee and looked lost in thought.

“Yeah, be with ya in a sec.”  
  
Knowing better than to argue, Pepper left him be. She was glad at least Bruce was resting; and the fact that he had not been around for the past six hours showed how run down he must have been. Before she stepped into the elevator, Pepper looked back one more time. At the bright relief on Tony's face as he conversed with his long-lost AI, she could not help but to smile. At the same time, she wondered how Bruce would react to Jarvis, and if it would make him miss Alfred Pennyworth even more than he did not admit to himself.

Tony did join her half an hour later, and managed to get in a few hours sleep. Pepper guided him through two loud and very vocal nightmares about Afghanistan, before the billionaire felt obliged to go back to his tinkering early at dawn.

She let him.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse all the following, nonsensical technobabble - I promise this will be the last superfluous action/fight scene for a while ;-)

When Bruce Wayne woke from his sleep, he had to check his nightstand watch twice. He had been out of action for the past fourteen hours.

As he pulled the sheets aside, his eyes came to rest on the prosthesis around his knee. Bruce had to admit that since Stark had meddled with it, the bracket was much easier to wear on an ongoing basis and stabilized his leg better than before. It did not even hinder him during his routine of pushups, after which he took a shower and got dressed in a dark jeans and sweater combo. He finished off a large green smoothie before he went to inquire about the whereabouts of his guests.

He found Pepper in front of a large TV screen, in what used to be her favorite living room, watching the news. She sat with her back towards him, massaged her left shoulder with her right hand and seemed lost in thought. Out of instinct, Bruce came to stand behind her and placed a hand above hers. With a start the young woman swung around and looked up into his unreadable countenance. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before he took his hand away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
Pepper breathed out and shook her head before she leaned back into the cushions.  
“It’s alright; I just seem to forget that stealth is basically your middle name.”

That elicited a small smirk from him, before Bruce focused on the events on screen.  
“Any new insights on Killian and his organization?”  
She told him there were a couple of videos A.I.M. had released, to spread terror and threaten the government.

With a curt nod, Bruce made his way to the door, leaving Pepper to stare at his broad back in something akin to reminiscence.  
As if on cue, Bruce turned around again and their eyes met.  
“I guess Sta….Tony is down in the cave?”  
  
Pepper rose from her seat, switched off the TV and followed him.  
“Yes he is. You’re yet to be introduced to his groundbreaking brainchild of last night.”  
Yielding to her out of courtesy and force of habit, Bruce cast her a sideways glance as they entered the piano room.

“Meaning what exactly?”  
She grinned at him as the bookshelf opened.  
“Let’s just say it’s time for you to meet someone special...”

They entered the cave to a conversation between Tony and one of the screens atop the platform. During the time he had worked alone, Stark had re-arranged Wayne’s mainframe screens and hard drive systems, and Pepper did not fail to notice how a small part of the cave now looked a little like the workshop back in Malibu, before its destruction. With a soothing pat to Bruce’s forearm, she climbed up the stairs first.

As he followed suit, Bruce jabbed a finger into Tony’s direction, to which the latter made a surrendering gesture.  
“You said I should ‘keep it intact’ right? And not ‘don’t go improving it a little here and there, tweak the kinks and…’”  
Bruce snorted as he advanced on Tony in slow, menacing strides.

Out of instinct, the shorter man did two steps backwards; cocksure grin slipping to first signs of discomfort. “Hey, hey, hey now, Brucie… erm, Bruce. Wait a sec! This is really neat, why don’t you check it out first? I even programmed your very own recognition module - hey J, make some noise will ya?”

Before Bruce could open his mouth, his eyes darted from Tony over to a computer screen where a bright blue circle flickered, similar to the one in Stark’s chest. “Hello, Mister Wayne, I am Jarvis, Mister Stark’s artificial intelligence program. I am happy to be of assistance to you in the future; please give me a short vocal impulse to save your voice to my identification module.”

Bewildered, the Gotham billionaire stared from the screen to Tony and back.  
“You’re what?”  
A small beam popped up and started loading before the AI spoke up again.

“Thank you, Sir. Your record has been saved. Mister Stark has installed the pre-settings regarding your profile, but you will be able to add or change components as we proceed.” Bruce crossed his arms in front of his chest and threw Tony a rotten look. “You have installed _your_ AI onto _my_ mainframe? Where’s all of my previous data? If anything’s been deleted, I swear to God you’ll be begging A.I.M. to save your sorry behind from me!”

Tony winked at Pepper before he sauntered over to where Bruce stood, glowering.  
The shorter man then gave a bold nudge to one of the muscular upper arms with his fist.  
“Wow you’re such a Grinch, you know that? Gimme a little credit here. Hey J, tell Bruce what we did.”

“Certainly, Sir. Mister Wayne, all of your data is stored away safely on a non-public server. With regards to your R&D unit, all filed projects are now multi-secured against attempted frauds. Access permission level is controlled by you alone, Sir. In addition, Mister Stark has synchronized me with your armored fighting vessels to assist you in critical situations.”

Tony Stark looked over at Bruce Wayne with large eyes; like a child who had crafted his first gift for his parents on Christmas. Miffed, because the other man had interfered with his tech, Bruce opened his mouth. After one look at a sympathetic Pepper, he exhaled, and his scowl lessened a little. “Okay, I admit that doesn’t sound too bad, but still, _Tony_ …” He fixated him with a stern glare. “… this is _my_ place, _my_ company, and _I_ decide what’s done around here – now and in the future.”

The genius inventor broke out in one of his finest smiles and nodded his head. His hands were busy waving Bruce’s objections away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, ‘course. Whatever you say Bats… erm, Bruce. But for now - c’mon, look. I was thinking we could combine these two algorithms here, like Jarvis has put up in a simulation…”

Pepper watched Tony pull the taller, reluctant man closer to the AI and cracked a smile.  
As the phone in the back pocket of her pants started to vibrate, she left for upstairs and them to their strategies.

***

“I can’t believe you deleted the voice-over program from the Tumbler and The Bat. What in heaven’s sake was wrong with that?”  
  
From where Tony straddled the roller stool he had managed to get a hold on, he bounced around and snorted into Bruce’s direction. “Oh please – a ‘loiter’ and ‘intimidate’ mode? Really? Lame-o Bruce, with a capital L. Now you've got Jarvis to inform you about everything that’s happening... sometimes even before it happens. Neat, huh?”

With dark mutterings under his breath, Bruce finished deprogramming the high-frequency generator he had developed with Lucius Fox before Hong Kong. Then he re-appeared in Tony’s line of view. “As if one chatterbox isn’t enough.” Tony wiped his palms on his slacks and regarded Wayne’s work with a satisfied nod. “Hey Jarvis, did ya hear that? Bruce here doesn’t like the sound of your voice.”

“To be fair, Sir - I believe Mister Wayne does not know me long enough yet to warrant such a claim. He does, however, seem more inclined to work without _your_ constant level of vocal input.”

The hint of a mischievous smile appeared on Bruce Wayne’s otherwise stoic countenance.  
“Hmm, maybe you and I will get along just fine, Jarvis.”  
Tony handed him a pair of headphones and pushed himself up to his toes.

“Ah, you'll come to value me soon – I’m _so_ gonna be growing on you Bruce, believe me.”  
With a deadpan expression, Bruce took the item from him.  
“Yeah, like warts.”

After sulking for two minutes straight, Tony was mollified enough to reveal the last piece of his makeshift plan to Bruce. It consisted of calling in and operating his secret armada of suits by remote control, to have them up against Killian and his Extremis soldiers. Tony knew, despite the clean-up operations at his former abode, his suits still sat untouched under the remains of his mansion and waited for their call.

Both men had agreed it was Iron Man’s battle alone, and that Bruce would solely function as secret back up.

Tony meanwhile had mended the original construction of Bruce Wayne’s high-frequency generator to suit his needs. The technology was able to detect electromagnetic waves, and allowed Wayne to visualize any environment in which a mobile was turned on in three dimensions. With the combined use of Jarvis’ makeshift functions and Bruce’s sonar mapping gear, they were able to locate the Extremis soldiers and their unique heat signatures all over North America.

“Apparently Killian’s headquarters are in Miami – most of the heat signatures with more than 3000 degrees point to Florida… harbor area to be exact.” They sat side by side at the mainframe as Tony cast Bruce a meaningful look. “Let’s hope you've got your 500 feet yacht anchoring elsewhere tonight then.”  
  
Bruce let the good-natured jibe slide, leaned back in his seat and hooked an elbow across the backrest.  
“But tell me again how you want to make the 1300 miles to Miami in good time because, honestly, I’m dying to know.”  
Tony scrunched up his nose and checked the monitor to his left once more before he stood up and walked over to the platform’s edge.  
  
”Just wait and see, Bruce… you’re in for a good surprise, ha, in precisely three, two, one…”  
He made a grand gesture towards the entrance behind the waterfall.  
Both men watched on as nothing happened for the upcoming seconds. Bruce pursed his lips. 

“Yes, clearly.”  
Slight amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth.  
“Ooookay, man you’re gonna eat your words now, Wayne… any minute… here it comes… boy; are you even prepared for this – cause: BAM…”

Again, nothing happened.  
The Gotham billionaire cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.  
“Cute. And somehow oddly entertaining. Mind if I just get a cup of coffee?”

Tony drummed his fingers on the railing. His attempted bravado had received a serious damper, and he was more than annoyed. He strolled over to the screen and thumped against the glass. “Hey Jarvis, thought I said it’s about time for the first part of the house party protocol…. now what’s keeping ya?” The AI's visualization flickered back at him in steady hues.

“Indeed you did, Sir. Unfortunately, Mark XLII is experiencing slight difficulties in finding the proper directions, it seems.”  
Bruce did his best to wipe the amused look off his face when Tony cast him a stern glare and went back to pace the platform.  
“Not a single word from you, Rodent Guy, or I swear I’ll have The Bat blasting out Ride of the Valkyries every time you get in.”

The Gotham billionaire buttoned his lips with his fingers, clasped his hands together, and looked at the other man like an expectant student. Tony chose to grace him with his backside. Once more he tried to count down the time to announce the arrival of his missing suit. After two more minutes, and a hearty yawn from Bruce in the back, he swung around and pointed his index finger at the openly grinning man.

Tony’s fierce countenance sadly had the opposite effect on the Gothamite and his atypical bout of mirth.  
“Oh yeah, laugh it up, Wayne. At least I've got the tech you’re dreaming of, ever since you stopped wetting your diapers!”  
Unconcerned, Bruce spread his arms and shrugged.

“Mhm, whatever you say. The difference between your tech and my dreams is just that, while my dreams come true, your tech needs more than GPS to come at all.”

Before the Californian billionaire was able to give a proper retort, a whirring sound from behind made him turn around. A single wrist bracelet attached itself to his left hand soon after. As he bathed in the glory of the moment, Tony wiggled the gauntlet at a silent Bruce Wayne. One by one, pieces of what looked to be an Iron suit then started to whoosh through the waterfall. Triumphant, Tony Stark puffed himself up and stroke a vigorous pose.

“Oh yes, here we go: Stark Industries, baby! Watch this, Waynster, it’s the return of the prodigal son.”

Mark XLII was unfortunate enough to miscalculate the distance towards its creator however. It caught its parts at the platform’s banister before it came crashing down in an undignified, wet heap at Tony’s feet. Frozen in spot, Tony rolled his eyes skywards and slowly let his arms sink.

“Yeah, whatever.”

From his seat in the back, Bruce got to his feet and began to clap; unashamed glee spread across his handsome features.

***

“Energy levels? Come on Tony, give me your stats again.”

“How many times you gonna ask me, B? At a whooping 92 percent and just crossing the Tennessee border, I’d say we’re about to kick some serious ass. I’m good, mother hen.”

Bruce adjusted his headset and threw an annoyed glance at Pepper who sat aside. The young woman shrugged noncommittally.  
“He normally just has Jarvis to monitor everything for him. And Jarvis doesn’t mind having his buttons pushed.”  
The Gothamite covered the mouthpiece with one hand.  
  
“Maybe, but since Jarvis is still in beta mode, Tony needs to save as much energy as he can.”

Pepper and Bruce had stayed behind at the cave and watched Tony’s interactions on several monitors and split screens. When they witnessed his low flying maneuvers, Bruce took his hand off the mouthpiece. His scowl deepened, and he regretted the fact he did not have direct visual contact with the soaring lunatic.

“Damn it, Stark, ever heard of stealth mode? Stop showing off up there!”

A whistled version of Ride of the Valkyries came through as Tony performed several 360 degree spins and re-ignited his repulsor jet packs. “People soon know that Tony Stark is very much alive and kicking. What’s wrong with that? They’ll be so overjoyed Iron Man is finally back. It’ll basically be like the second coming.” Bruce Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose, counted to ten and focused hard on his meditative skills.

“When, or _if_ -I’m not too sure on that at the moment- you’re making it back, you should really look into that megalomania of yours. Modern-day therapy might just be what you need.” Tony huffed at him. “Why B, you’re just jealous. I'm telling you man, you to-ta-lly should just own it and come clean like I did. It'll be just so much better for your inner chi; think about it: No more existential angst, no more expensive therapists… hmm well, unless it's a hot, female therapist… Do you happen to have a hot, female therapist?"

With one swift movement, Bruce tugged off his headset, made a wringing gesture with his hands and went off to calibrate the upcoming sonar mapping sequence Tony would need. While the Gothamite would warn him about potential traps and nearing Extremis soldiers, Tony could map the area far in advance without making his presence known.

Pepper stepped in, slipped on another headset and adjusted it with a huge sigh. She followed Bruce’s motions before she focused on the man on the other end of the line. “The prize for the most annoying superhero on this planet clearly goes to you.” After Tony went through a patch with lots of static, he soon was back to a clear connection and chuckled at the familiar, female voice.

“Touchy, touchy the Batster. Tell him I’ve just passed the Floridian border; ETA in about twenty minutes if I’m not mistaken… and I never am.”

Unbeknownst to Pepper and Bruce, Tony then began to feel a tingling sensation in his arms and legs. Soon after, cold sweat broke out in his neck. With a silent curse, he squeezed his eyes shut against the little black and white triangles in front of them. The panic got a hold of him out of the blue. He fervently tried to ward it off before any of his ground crew members would notice.

After several more minutes in agony, which only made it worse, Jarvis intervened, always programmed to ensure Tony’s health and well-being. The AI spoke up as several green beams and bars switched from green to red. “Sir, I’m detecting an elevated heart rate and irregular pulse. The sinking blood pressure and temperature of your hands and feet indicate circulation problems.”

“Tony, what’s wrong up there?”  
Pepper listened to the AI’s diagnosis. Her concerned voice caused Bruce to look at her.  
“Nothing. Just… another of those… damn, why now. Jarvis: Slow down to subsonic speed and check my vitals.”

The Gothamite walked back over to where Pepper sat, saw the changes Tony had just made on screen and snatched his headset. “Don’t - the suit’s not going to be operational to the end if you keep on dishing out energy reserves. What’s the problem?” When Tony failed to answer him, except for heavy panting, Pepper took off her headset, grasped Bruce’s forearm and shook her head in determination.

“He has these… since New York. Leave him be, I’ll try to talk him out of it.”  
Bewildered Bruce watched her slip the device back on as she began talking to Tony in a soothing manner.  
“Yes that’s better, Tony. Just continue to breathe in and out slowly. Yes, that's good. Hey, you want to tell me pi to the fiftieth digit?”

Stark blinked several times as he felt the brunt of his anxiety ebb off a little, and shook his head inside the helmet. “Nah I’m good, I’m good, Pep, thanks. Think I’ll manage. Jarvis, resume regular flight velocity. We've got a madman to stop.” Whilst keeping an eye on Stark’s vitals which started to get back to normal, Bruce looked at the woman to his left with a raised eyebrow.

“He has panic attacks since New York? And we’ll have him going off against these lunatics alone? I don’t know if that was the smartest thing to do.” She averted his eyes. Bruce’s doubts mimicked her own fears, and she pressed her lips together. Before she could answer, the man in question spoke up. “Hey B… in case you witnessed the whole thing, which I’m sure you did, try to keep this confidential for me, will ya?”

Tony had switched to surround sound speakers and his voice echoed through the cave, sounding tinny and far away. With a smug grin, Bruce leaned back in his chair, put his headset aside once more and crossed his legs. He rested an ankle on his knee and started to twirl the headset’s microphone in between his fingers.

“At least this gives me a little more leverage when it comes to us sharing… secrets.”

“Hey _I_ won’t if _you_ don’t. Fair enough then, I’d say. So… is your sonar mapping baby online? I’m almost at the harbor.”  
Bruce flipped a few switches, rechecked the energy levels of Mark XLII once more, and he gave Tony the all-clear.  
“Everything’s online and ready. Godspeed Iron Man. We’ll be watching your back.”

“Thanks B, looking good so far. Jarvis, get ready. Shit’s about to go down.”

When Iron Man came down hard on the unprepared army of Extremis soldiers, guns ablaze, Pepper and Bruce watched the spectacle through Tony’s eyes.

Halfway in, Tony found that the battle at an impounded damaged oil tanker could not be more uneven, and was thankful for no innocent civilians around. Iron Man swiveled, dodged, and blasted his way through more than a dozen Extremis-infected soldiers, who put up a good fight. At some point, Bruce urged him on to call in his backup.

“Do it now or do it never. Your suit’s running more than low on battery already. Several more hits and you’re toast.”  
As if on cue, the only visual connection between Iron Man and his bystanders broke.  
It left Bruce and Pepper to hear how Tony interacted with Jarvis, and simultaneously them.

“J – House Party Protocol part two is already rollin’, I hope?”

“Estimated time of arrival in about 2.6 minutes, Sir. In the meantime, try to stay clear of any potential colliding objects – shield capacity at thirty-four percent.” Tony gave a small yelp and did a pivoting movement to avoid a metal beam before he rocketed skywards to gain more time. “Hey B, I need another shot of sonar up here. See those cargo blocks over there? Guess that’s where Killian’s at - it’s time we cook him out.”

Bruce typed a couple of sequences into the computer, but most of the screens stayed dark. His frown intensified in the bluish illumination from above as he hit the keys in a fast rhythm. “Afraid not, we lost visual with you couple of seconds ago. I’m rebooting the sequence, try some stalling techniques in the meantime.”  
  
Harrumphing came through the line. “Some quality toys you got there. Remind me to invite you over to Stark Tower when this thing’s over; you’ll be bawling your eyes out over the stuff we’ve got there. Ain’t called candy land for nothing.” Only Pepper saw the slight irritation flicker across Bruce’s face as the Gotham billionaire re-programmed several error message subroutines. “It was the metallic candy cane you’re flying in that hosed the connection. You should have access any minute.”

Moments later, Tony voiced his confirmation and told them of his arriving backup.  
“Shame you can’t see this – it’s sheer beauty up here.”  
His voice got serious as Jarvis informed him of the dwindling resources of Mark XLII.

Before Bruce or Pepper could interfere, Tony’s serious voice piped up.  
“Listen: If I can’t get back to you, stick to Jarvis - he’ll know where I’m at. Peace out.”  
Acoustic noise then filled the cave, while the screens stayed black.  
  
Two pairs of eyes searched for Jarvis, whose bluish circle idly flickered on. “Mark XLII is offline, due to power loss. Mister Stark has switched over to Mark XVIII.” The AI ran reconfigurations and presented them with a list of dozens of Mark versions after a few seconds. Bruce cast Pepper a look that spoke volumes. The redhead could not help but to shrug her shoulders in befuddlement.

When she studied the overview on all operational suits that were engaged in the battle, Pepper thought back to her conversation with Happy at the housewarming party. The fact there now were forty Iron Man suits high up in the air over Miami made her uncomfortable. Tony apparently required urgent psychological help, once the whole ordeal was over, and the thought kind of unsettled her to the core.

Just then, Mark XLII disappeared from the list as if it had never existed.

Bruce and Pepper kept on trying to retrieve a stable connection via audio, but had to watch the list of Mark versions grow smaller as Iron Man sacrificed more and more prototype suits to battle. They listened to bits and pieces of Tony’s interactions with his AI and his plethora of suits. While Stark did manage to eliminate most of the Extremis soldiers, he burned through his resources far too fast.

When Tony finally faced Killian, who had injected himself with Extremis as well, he was left with less than a handful of suits during the showdown high above the harbor area. Bruce mustered the graphics and frowned. “Jarvis, tell Tony to try and stay away from him; that heat signature is extremely high.” He worked his way through the rows of data Jarvis provided him with after analyzing their nemesis, and Pepper stared at the screens with her fists balled in her lap.

Tony’s strained voice came through the speakers, and they could hear the exertion in it. “Yeah no kidding, B. Guy just spat fire at me – that’s serious bad breath. Hey, do me a favor and power up your generator; I need the largest EMP wave you’re able to create.”

“The ESD’s damaging effect is fatal to any suit _you_ have on - what are you trying to do?”  
More struggling could be heard on the other end of the line, and after some seconds Tony was able to speak.  
“Mmpf, I just had an idea. Trust me and do as I say.”

After he locked eyes with a horrified Pepper, Bruce did as Tony had asked him to, mouth set in a tight line.  
Something on the screen to her right then caused Pepper's attention.  
“Mark XLII is back online!”

They listened as Tony instructed his latest suit creation to wrap itself around Killian, before Iron Man released a large EMP onto the trapped A.I.M. leader. When the high current and voltage hit Mark XLII in a final bout of electronic fire and caused a powerful explosion, static rustled within the speakers. Bruce instantly tried to get access to Jarvis, and Pepper breathed a sigh of relief when the AI assured them of Tony’s well-being.

“Mister Stark has escaped the explosion in Mark XXXIX, and is currently in suborbital flight range. Despite some minor dehydration issues, all of his vitals are stable. He will be returning in presumably thirty minutes.” She twisted in her seat and looked over at Bruce who leaned against the mainframe and pulled off the headset. He ran a hand through his hair and threw the small device aside.

“Well, that was that.”  
Instinctively she rose; feeling the need to engulf him in a heartfelt hug.  
“Thank you Bruce; we’ve got to thank you for everything.”

Bruce returned the hug, albeit with less pressure, and she closed her eyes for a moment.  
Eventually he detached himself with a small, almost bashful smile.  
“No, you never have to. Tony and Jarvis did most of the work up there.”

He paused and gave a lopsided smirk.  
“Let's wait upstairs for the bragger to arrive.”  
Pepper inhaled deeply and nodded.

 


	11. Chapter 11

They returned to one of the many salons upstairs, Bruce went to get something to drink, and Pepper slipped out into the foyer with a thumping heart. When he returned with a bottle of water and two glasses,she stood at the large window front that faced the gardens outside, leaning against the window sill. With a confused look Bruce placed the items onto the coffee table and pointed to the furniture in an inviting gesture.

“Why don’t you sit down and get comfortable? He’s not going to be here that soon.”  
Pepper interlinked her fingers in front of her lap and looked down onto her feet.  
“… well no, but… someone else is.”

Bruce’s countenance did not betray any puzzlement, except for the millisecond a frown flew across it. Before he could utter a question or comment, Pepper craned her neck and looked over to the doorway of the salon. He turned around to follow her line of vision. Alfred Pennyworth stepped around one of the large marble pillars, dressed in a long woolen winter coat and wearing a dark fedora.

With slow movements, the butler put down a well-worn leather suitcase next to his feet and gravely looked over at his wayward protege.  
Pepper held her breath as both men eyed each other without saying a word and hastened to fill the uncomfortable silence that had ensued.  
“I wanted to keep it a surprise, until I was certain.”

With hurt, stubbornness and wounded pride warring on his face, Bruce watched his long-time butler give a small nod and mimicked the gesture. The young woman then did the first thing that came to her mind: She crossed the distance towards the elder man and embraced him, heartfelt. “Thank you Alfred, thank you for coming back.”

Pepper felt the elder man shake while he returned her hug, before he looked back over to where Bruce still stood, motionless. When she saw her ex-fiancé avert his head to stare at the floor, she let go of Alfred and walked over to him. A gentle squeeze of his forearm made the Gotham billionaire focus on her, and her blue eyes darted within his hazel ones, to try and fathom a reaction.

“Please tell me I wasn’t wrong.”  
Her voice seemed to shake Bruce out of his stupor and he looked at her with his jaw set tight.  
“Can’t say I’m not surprised. But even though Killian is dead, we’re not done yet.”

His eyes searched for his butler again. When he saw Alfred still standing in the doorway, looking forlorn and for once his actual age, Bruce swallowed hard. “If Bane has not been with the rest of the arrested A.I.M. members, he and his men will be coming for Gotham soon, to finish what they’ve started. I won’t stand aside and let that happen.”

Pepper let him push past her to walk over to the window front and turn his back on them. Helpless she glanced back over to Alfred. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Bruce; you've got Tony and me by your side… and Alfred as well – isn’t that right, Alfred?”

“Certainly Miss Potts. If that is what Master Wayne wants.”  
The young billionaire looked over his shoulder; half of his face shaded by darkness.  
“I won’t go up against them as Bruce Wayne, Alfred. You know that.”

At that, the first hint of a smile appeared on the butler’s countenance. “Now that I’ve come to learn that a man flying around in a metal suit is on our team, I do feel a little better knowing there is back up should things get rough, Sir.” Bruce simply shoved his hands in his pockets and straightened his back.

“It’s good to have you back, Alfred.”  
The elder man bent back down to retrieve his suitcase and held it in front of him.  
“Likewise, Master Wayne. I will do my unpacking now, if you excuse me. Miss Potts?”

With a nod from both, the butler turned and left a huge silence behind. Pepper mustered the brooding man in front of her. Not knowing what to do, she walked over to have a seat and helped herself to a glass of water. With her feet up on the couch, she slipped them underneath the cushions.

“He needs you, just like you need him. And the thought of leaving you all by yourself in these premises didn’t sit right with me.”  
Pepper’s words wafted through the salon, and Bruce looked out of the window once again. He gave a quiet, humorless snort.  
“And still you do.”

Taken aback by his mumbled revelation, she fell silent and glanced down at the glass in her hand. Before she could find words that did not sound too awkward, Bruce had masked his slip of the tongue with a forced laugh. “Anyways, I think it’s best if you take one of my jets back home; we wouldn’t want to draw unwanted attention to Gotham by having Tony calling in his pick-up service.”

The invisible armor around him was back in place; to steel Bruce Wayne's resolve and to protect his heart.  
And for once, Pepper Potts was able to noticed the change.  
Bruce pressed his lips together and swung back around to where his ex-fiancée sat and regarded him with compassion.

She then stood up, placed the glass aside and brushed her hair behind her ear as she came to stand in front of the taller man.  
“Bruce… I would hate to lose you as a confidant and close friend, but of course I wouldn't want to cause you any more trouble than necessary...”  
Pepper wanted to reach out and take his hand, but felt she had no right to make things even more complicated between them.

“Don’t worry, I’ve donned the role of the restless playboy often enough. People and press alike won’t even question as to why we broke up after all. Give or take a month and they’ve already forgotten your name.” Funnily enough, his words stung in her heart more than she liked to admit. It also must have played on her face because Bruce put his hands upon her shoulders and urged her to look at him.

“If either one of us is bound to get hurt from this, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that it won't be you.”  
Before she had a chance to respond to his cryptic words, descending sounds from the outside caught their attention.  
Bruce let go of her to look out of the windows once again. His forehead ceased in a huge frown as his jaw was set tight.

“If he sends the horse off in a scare, he’s going after it. Barefooted. Through the rain.”  
Together they witnessed how Iron Man skid in a none-too gentle landing process.  
It left an ugly looking, fifty feet long turf along the well-tutored lawns of Wayne Manor’s front yard.

The young woman winced in sympathy and threw a sheepish glance towards the billionaire by her side.  
As the silvery-white armor got up and staggered towards the main entrance, Pepper cleared her throat and tried to sound upbeat.  
“Well… at least he spared Iron Maiden.”

***

Half an hour later, the tumult that surrounded Tony’s victorious return had died down. The Californian billionaire peeled himself out of his abused looking suit, took a long, hot shower and switched into a clean set of clothing before the three of them reunited in the living room. There, Tony flopped down onto the plush leather couch next to Pepper.

“Now where’s the welcome back buffet for the famished superhero? Don’t tell me you guys ordered pizza while I was out there risking my butt.” She smacked his thigh to which Tony extended an arm and slipped it around her shoulders. From where he leaned against the other couch, Bruce eyed the door. “With how long it took you to take care of things, we might as well have thrown a banquet. Alas we didn’t, and this now leaves us at the mercy of Alfred.”

Three pairs of eyes watched as the elder butler, back to being dressed in his usual attire, entered the room with a silver tray in his hands. Alfred placed it down in front of them onto the large glass table, took in the sight of the couple on the couch, and mustered Tony with a sardonic glimmer in his eyes.

“I take it this is the gentleman from inside the metal suit. I am sure you will provide us with contact details, to send you the landscaping invoice.”

Tony laughed good-naturally and sprang up to extend his hand towards the elder man. “Now that’s how I like it: Eloquent and in-your-face. Hi, I’m Tony Stark, nice to meet you. And don’t worry about your lawn, I’ll send someone to replant the front in no time.” The butler took the proffered hand as he glanced over to his smirking, but silent employer. Bruce Wayne just crossed his ankles and his arms in front of his chest.

“Pleased to hear that, Sir. But I do believe we have already met. At the housewarming party here at Wayne Manor, a couple of months ago.”  
Puzzled, Tony squinted at him and scrunched up his nose.  
“We did? Well, to be fair, I hardly remember what I’ve had for lunch most of the time, so with all due respect…”

With an affected complaisance only Bruce Wayne was able to identify, Alfred Pennyworth cocked his head.  
“Oh, speaking of respect… _that_ certainly was not part of the first impression you’ve left me with, Mister Stark.”  
The butler turned back over to his protege and ignored the baffled look on both Tony’s and Pepper’s faces.

“Will Miss Potts be accompanying Mister Stark instead of staying at the Manor then, Master Wayne?”

“What the heck is this? I’m getting an awful Super Nanny vibe here. Just cause I don’t…”

Pepper palmed her forehead as Tony’s voice took on an infuriated tone. Bruce then uncrossed his legs, pushed himself off the backrest of the couch and placed a hand upon Alfred’s shoulder. “Yes Alfred, Pepper’s going back with Tony. It’s taken some time to find out what’s really in the best interests of all parties concerned, but I think we have found a way. Please have a jet ready for them by tomorrow.”

Tony and Pepper watched as the butler locked disapproving eyes with his employer who gave him a resolute, thin-lipped smile in return. “Also make sure all of Pepper’s belongings get packed and shipped properly. She’ll let you know where to exactly. Oh, and I reckon this is grilled chicken sandwich?” The Gotham billionaire pointed to the still covered tray before he walked over and lifted the cover to confirm his suspicions.

Seeing the conversation was over for Bruce Wayne, Alfred indicated a slight bow and left the room. He did not look at Tony again. The young woman sighed as she tucked her hand underneath her chin and mustered the two men across from the table. Bruce gestured at Tony, who still seemed to be indignant. “I thought you were famished. Help yourself. Pepper, what about you?”

She nodded and had Tony hand her a sandwich. Bruce however excused himself and left them alone. While Tony’s appetite was unabated, Pepper listlessly nibbled at her serving. After he had swallowed his third sandwich with a final swig from the water bottle, the billionaire leaned back into the couch with a sated grunt. He stroked the back of his female companion who sat at the rim of the sofa in a hunched over position.

When he felt the delicate vertebrae of her spine poking out from underneath her cardigan, he frowned.  
“Come on Pep, eat up. Looks like I have to make sure you’re putting some meat back on your bones.”  
That educed a small smile from her, even though she placed the half-eaten sandwich back on the quite empty platter.

“Guess I’m not that hungry at the moment.”

Tony leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and tried to catch her eye. When that did not bring the desired effect he continued to twist sideways into her line of vision. Pepper remained silent and stared down at the space between the table and the floor. Tony nearly slid off the couch before he eventually got her to look at him, and her blue eyes curiously seized him up. He grimaced at her and nodded.

“Uh-huh, now we’re talking. Well, I am. You mad at me because of the butler? I really don’t remember. All I know is that evening was…. gruesome in so many ways.” Pepper pressed her lips together and shook her head, again avoiding his stare. With a resigned slap to his thighs Tony blew out his cheeks and stood up. He looked down at the crown of her reddish-blonde hair.

“Or is it cause of Bruce? Yeah, it’s cause of him, right? You’re not entirely convinced you wanna give up him and all of this here for a potentially disastrous relationship with me!” At his words Pepper raised her head and found him watching her with a troubled expression. His many facial cuts and bruises stood out harshly in the bright light of a nearby lamp.

“Relationship?”

Tony looked like he had expected another reply and snapped his mouth shut. His mood shifted from being upset to being puzzled. After he had gnawed at his soul patch for a moment, he gave a helpless shrug. “… or something. Dunno. Thought that’s what we’d be trying to… Heck, I thought that’s what you wanted... maybe.”

Her nervous fingers brushed stubborn side bangs behind her ear as Pepper swallowed.  
She then forced herself to look up at the man she had come to appreciate over the years.  
“What do _you_ want, Tony?”

In a flash, he was back at her side and plopped down onto the upholstery. He placed both of his hands onto her arm which was closest to him and fixated her with an intense glare. “I want _this_ , Pepper! I want us. Hell, I’ve never wanted anything more than that. Dunno if I’m good at it, but I’ll try my damnedest to not screw it up, I promise!”

His heated persuasion made her smile and she allowed him to pull her into a tight embrace.  
Pepper closed her eyes against the brightness of the blue ARC under his shirt.  
“On one condition though.”

“Anything. Ugh, wait … that’s probably a little too early on my part there, so let’s just say…”  
As she detached herself from him and narrowed her eyes, Tony relented fast.  
“…no, no, no, of course, like I said – anything. What is it?”

“You’re going to seek professional help with everything that’s been troubling you since New York and before.”

To Pepper’s utter surprise, he nodded without complaint. He must have had imagined far worse bargaining tools than her request. “Sure yeah, probably for the best since we’re bound to Big Apple for time being anyhow. Are you okay with making the Tower your transitional home address?” Pepper allowed him to pull her against his chest once more and they leaned back into the cushions. She stared off into the distance.

“What about the condo at Paradise Cove? I kind of miss the place; always have since I left it.” Tony shrugged against her as his fingers started to lightly run up and down her arm. “It’s still yours, but since I’m new to this whole relationship stuff it’s probably a good idea for me to get the gist of the concept real fast. Difficult with a LDR sort of thing, I guess...”

Touched at his unique way of saying he did not want to be separated from her any more than necessary, Pepper slid her arms around his waist and hugged him. “The condo can wait then. Stark Tower is your most recent baby after all and I’m able to work for you from there as well.” Incredulous Tony looked down at the woman in his arms.

“You’re still up for the job, even as my girlfriend? Hey, awesome! By the way, there’s also that amazing position as CEO - any chance you’re interested in that one as well? Cause I’m all yours anyhow, and so's the company.” With a grin into his chest Pepper shook her head no and pinched his sides to which Tony squirmed in protest. The fact that Iron Man was ticklish beyond belief amused her to no end.

“Thanks but no thanks. Never again. I’m convinced you’ll do a splendid job yourself. And if I now control both your business _and_ your private life, it’ll be a piece of cake.” Tony mumbled something about being in for it, shifted into a standing position and groaned as his muscles fiercely protested. Pepper linked arms with him to help him up. “Come on Iron Man, time to rest.”

Intertwining her fingers with his, Tony dragged himself over to their room in order to sleep one last time under the roof of Wayne Manor.

Though Tony Stark had sworn to himself never to set another foot into Gotham City again, it ultimately had provided him not only with new allies, but also with the woman of his dreams by his side. With a tired but satisfied grin to himself he rolled over to spoon behind her already asleep body under the blankets and inhaled the scent of lavender, vanilla and mint, that was uniquely Pepper to him.

Yes, life was going to be good.

***

The next day, after a late breakfast, Tony and Pepper left Gotham City on a private Wayne Enterprises’ jet that was about to take them back to New York, unbeknownst from the public. The farewells were mixed; from heartfelt between Pepper, Bruce and Alfred, to slightly frosty between Tony and the butler, and neutral between the two billionaires.

On a windy airfield outside the Palisades, Alfred soon resumed his position in the driver’s seat of the black limousine and left the trio to their final goodbyes. Tony stood next to the other billionaire, chewed on a piece of gum and tapped his fingers on Bruce’s forearm, insistent. ”…and really, like I said, Bruce: Once we’re back to normal, you and I _need_ to get hold of this joint-venture. Everyone's gonna go haywire, you bet.”

Bruce nodded along while he made sure all suitcases were loaded onto the slipstream liner.  
“Sure, yes, just give me a call then, whenever you’re ready.”  
Pepper reappeared from inside the plane and stepped down the gangway. Both men looked at her as she joined them.

“Looks like we’re almost done and good to go.”  
She then turned to the Californian billionaire who beamed at her and nudged him onwards.  
“So come on, get on board Mister Stark; for once, _this_ plane doesn’t wait up for you.”

With a grin and a victory sign into the direction of Bruce and Alfred, Tony took the stairs with a bounce in his stride and disappeared inside, looking forward to going home. Once Tony was out of sight, Pepper laughed at Bruce’s visible relaxation. He cast her a good-natured smirk in return. “You’re a tough woman, Virginia Potts, to willingly put up with this handful.”

His face then got serious and he mustered her with a thoughtful, all too well-known look. It was the same look he had given her during their very first vidcon; after she had mentioned her affiliation with Stark Industries, in what seemed ages ago. Pepper swallowed and held his gaze for a few seconds.

“Like they say: With great power comes great responsibility. Now, Bruce…” The young woman spread her arms and gave him a genuine smile. “… I won’t tell you goodbye, because it would mean not seeing you again for a long time. I reckon that’s most likely not going to happen.”

He closed the small distance and engulfed her in a strong, steady embrace.  
Pepper felt and heard him inhaling sharply while he held her.  
“Let’s hope you’re right.”

Bruce released her before anyone would get a wrong idea and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his expensive, woolen Armani coat. Pepper took a seat next to Tony, who was busy fiddling with the on-board electronics, and talking to no one in particular about what was better or inferior to his own armada of private aircrafts. She strapped herself in, glanced out of the window to her right and saw Bruce get in the limousine.

The big black sedan then took a turn to the left and sped off into the opposite direction of the tarmac. The young woman leaned back into the comfortable leather seat and closed her eyes as the pilot brought the jet up into the air. As Pepper was about to make use of the in-flight time to reflect upon the past few months, a large warm hand wormed its way into hers.

“Wanna know what’s interesting? The Batguy’s his true self and Wayne's just the actor. Bruce Wayne’s character is the mask. Funny, huh? That’s just my two cents though.” Puzzled as to how and when the topic switched from slipstream liner ceiling illumination to an in-depth characterization of Bruce Wayne, Pepper regarded the man next to her with skepticism.“Why… why would you say that? And based on what?”

Even though they were on their own, Tony leaned in closer, wet his lips, and shrugged.

“Dunno, just crossed my mind. You see, ‘Bruce Wayne’ is what he creates in order to be socially acceptable and to disguise the fact that he’s actually the Batguy. But there’s that constant rage and need for vengeance in him - I of all people would know, huh? Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that he's a very capable and very brutal fighter, but on the other hand dude’s got this philanthropy-shtick down like crazy; from… I dunno - his butler, or parents or whomever. So, in total: He’s every psychologist’s dream come true!”

Not knowing how or even if to reply to that, Pepper remained silent.

Her glance fell back out of the window, to where the Palisades had almost completely disappeared from her view as the jet gained altitude. Oblivious to her slight discomfort, Tony put his sneakered feet up on the seat opposite of him and drew his final conclusion. His nimble fingers had meanwhile disassembled the control panel above and exposed tangled wires from the airplane’s multimedia system. Pepper could not help but think he was incorrigible.

“But frankly… the guy just wants to kill. Nah, Pep, don’t look at me like that. He _wants_ to kill and he has to reign himself in constantly because ‘the Batman’ never kills. At least that’s what he told me, the big ol' do-gooder.” She pondered his musings for a while and looked back down onto the armrest where their fingers lay, still interwoven.

“The life of a superhero takes its toll on the human soul; you of all people should know.”  
At that, Tony’s hand tightened around hers, but he did not answer. Conciliatory she stroked his work-roughened knuckles with her thumb.  
“Nothing of what you just told me will pass your lips in front of any other person on this planet, Anthony Stark. Promise.”

Instead of an answer, Tony raised their hands and placed a gentle kiss upon the back of hers. His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I'll make up a glorious Hollywood story then: I saved us during the attack, went into hiding with you where you discovered your undisguised desire for me and gave me the strength to defeat A.I.M. Yup, deal!”

Despite her threats, Pepper did not succeed in wiping off the persistent smug grin from Tony’s face afterwards. For the rest of the flight to New York she busied herself with getting up to date on recent developments regarding Stark Industries and current world affairs she had missed out upon. When he fell asleep and snored softly into her shoulder half an hour later, the young woman placed a gentle kiss to his temple.

With a quiet sigh, she closed the notebook in front of her and snuggled in to get a little more comfortable as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's deductions about the Batman taken from an interview with Christian Bale, back in 2005/2006 if I'm not mistaken. 
> 
> Suffice to say, we're heading into what people lovingly call 'Pepperony territory' now - let's see how long it'll last ;-)


	12. Chapter 12

New York, 20th  December 2010

 

With a look at the calendar in front, Pepper Potts still could not believe it was less than a week before Christmas.

After Tony’s and her return to the land of living, and at the same time New York, the world had gone crazy. Many interviews were given, press statements released, and board meetings organized. All in favor of Tony Stark back at the helm of Stark Industries, stronger than ever, and Iron Man's single-handed defeat of the head of A.I.M. in an undercover operation not even the Government had known about.

They had to thank Rhodey as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. for the smooth interference on that whole issue.

Pepper sighed and ripped off the small calendar sheet from the previous day, to throw it into the dustbin underneath her desk. She was grateful Tony had seen to her wish, and not broadcasted their tender relationship to the world. For time being, they had officially resumed working relations and failed to mention Pepper’s Gotham City stint to anyone.

After not even Christine Everhart from Vanity Fair had managed to dig out information, to make either Pepper or Bruce Wayne appear in a bad light, Pepper had allowed Tony to start courting her. That itself was a complete new experience, for both of them. It seemed to make him happier than she ever would have imagined, and if she had not known better, Pepper thought the whole past year had been unreal.

She gazed out of the window of her office at Stark Tower and solemnly watched the snow flakes dance through the air, before she continued to type up the latest business report for Tony to discuss with the board. The tower was doing splendidly with its own clean power sourcing, and the two of them were eager to foster more projects like it in the future - preferably in association with Wayne Enterprises.

Despite Tony’s initial eagerness to get the co-project rolling, he had started to immerse himself in the rebuilding of Stark Mansion first; wanting to finish it before getting back in touch with Bruce, and she had agreed. A small, buzzing sound then brought her back from where she had zoned out again, and she touched the intercom button.

“Yes, Dwight?”  
Pepper still remembered the relieved look on her assistant’s face when she got back.  
She was convinced Tony had given Dwight Johnson as much of a hard time as suspected.

“Mister Stark is here to pick you up, Miss Potts.”

No sooner than the assistant had finished, the massive door to her office opened and the man in question entered, dressed in a warm and fashionable Burberry duffel coat. He glanced backwards whilst pulling off his gloves to give the fussy assistant a reprimanding look and tsked in exasperation.

“Geez, you always have to spoil all the fun, Dwighty-Whitey. You really gotta work on your spontaneous streak. Hiya, darling!”  
Tony crossed the distance to her desk and leaned over to kiss her.  
Pepper squealed in protest as he splayed snowflakes everywhere onto her face, lap and desktop.

“Hey, watch it! My, you look like a snowman... where have you been, for heaven’s sake?”  
Half indignant, half laughing, Pepper pushed the grinning billionaire away and wiped the notebook dry with her sleeve.  
Discreet, Dwight Johnson stepped up and pulled the door shut to grant them some much appreciated privacy.

Pepper and Tony had tested out the waters of their burgeoning relationship on the long-time assistant first. When Johnson behaved nothing short of professional, after seeing the Stark Industries CEO kiss his PA for the first time, they knew they had a winner. Pepper had immediately requested him to move workplaces with her to New York for time being.

“Met up with Rhodey for coffee round the corner, before he’s off home for Christmas. It’s snowing like crazy out there, so I got the Escalade parked up front. You ready? Happy’s waiting.”

The biggest pre-Christmas present for them was Harold Hogan coming out of his coma, two weeks after their return. When they received the call from the hospital one evening, both Pepper and Tony had shed tears of relief and joy upon hearing he would not carry secondary damage to any vital functions. They had flown over to Los Angeles on the same night. Once Happy had been responsive, and saw who his two visitors were behind the thick glass front, he almost had a seizure.

Their reunion would be another factor to aid him on his long way to recovery, and after getting the green light from the doctors, Tony had seen to transferring him to New York. The billionaire wanted him in close proximity during rehabilitation and physiotherapy at the most renowned facilities, and had not spared expenses or troubles to make sure his friend got the best care available.

Pepper nodded, switched off her notebook and started to pack up. Tony meandered over to the nearby clothes hanger to fetch her own Burberry quilted coat. Before he helped her into it, he pulled her close to him with his free arm and pressed his lips onto the side of her neck.

“I’ve missed you this morning, you know?”

Her eyes briefly closed at the combination of his low, throaty voice, combined with the sensuous ministrations on the sensitive area underneath her ear where his goatee tickled her skin. Pepper had to admit she very much liked this new side of him. Tony had developed quite a chivalrous streak to go with his usual charm and charisma. The fact that all of his attention was now focused on her instead of the rest of the female population was also new to her, and overwhelmingly exciting.

Though she knew he hated to be handed things, Tony was very touchy-feely with her, now that he could. He always made sure to interlink his legs or feet with hers, and took her hand as if they had not done anything else their entire lives. On top of that, her genius billionaire and ex-playboy was a big-time cuddler, not that she would ever tell anyone.

They had gotten intimate for the first time three days after returning to New York and Stark Tower. While Pepper had seen her fair share of Tony in various states of undress or during sexual intercourse practices over the years, she had never imagined him to be as nervous as he was with her. It had made her nervous in return, and things had been tense and over pretty quick.

As they had laid side by side afterwards, and Tony profusely apologized for his lousy performance, stating he most definitely could do better, Pepper told him it was the biggest compliment considering all facts. Even if he did not believe her, Tony managed to take his sweet time to make up for the debut gone awry a little while later. The fact they did not manage to get out of bed for the next two days, spoke volumes.

Despite him being a glorious sight and force in the sheets, Pepper knew the biggest turn-on for her would always be his brain and his heart.

“Unexpected, since you were snoring so deeply when I left.”  
The arm was now holding her even tighter, and she felt him smirk against her earlobe.  
“That’s cause you’re wearing me out, baby. Gotta recharge to keep up with your energy.”

“Do I hear complaint in your voice, Mister Stark?”  
He released her to help her into her coat and, with a smug expression on his handsome face, stole another kiss.  
“You’ll be hearing anything but complaints from me when we’re alone later on, Miss Potts, I’m gonna show you why they call me Iron Man.”

When he had finally succeeded in making her blush, Tony took Pepper’s hand in his and they made their way downstairs, to where their big black SUV was waiting in front of the Tower. Because of the bad weather conditions, there were no paparazzi loitering around, waiting for another snapshot of the ‘hottest couple of the year’.

All precautions aside, rumors had spread fast after their return, and Pepper could only grimace at the headlines of the latest gossip rags.

While Tony found it most amusing, Pepper found it rather difficult to cope with. With his reputation, most articles speculated on how the redhead, who was so very different from any of the ladies Stark had gotten horizontal with over the years, had finally scored with the billionaire, and if the latter was able to keep it in his pants long enough to call it a relationship.

The official background story they chose to publish after the terrorist attacks on Tony and his mansion was milked to ridiculousness, and became more outlandish with every new version the editors came up with. It meanwhile sounded like an even cornier version of The Blue Lagoon and reduced them to two libido-crazed maniacs with a sex drive spurred by the heat of the moment.

Tony had laughed out loud at that and wanted to frame and hand the article up in his office. Needless to say, Pepper had said no. The only good thing about the current media hassle was, that  the journalists at least were left in the dark about Tony’s psychotherapy sessions, which had started a month ago. Doctor Brian Blum was renowned, discreet and able to come by Stark Tower twice a week to help Tony sort things out.

Pepper left it to her billionaire to wind his way through the snowed, crowded streets of downtown New York. She busied herself typing on her brand-new Stark phone; a next generation prototype so advanced, Pepper almost wondered when it would start going to work for her. A hushed curse to her left then made her look up and notice the traffic jam they were stuck in. Tony’s mouth curved into a disdained line and he threw his hands into the air.

“Relax, I’ll call NYU and have someone inform Happy that we’re going to be a little late.”

She reached out with a well-manicured hand to still his twitching thigh and put the phone to her ear. With a relieved sigh moments later, she wanted to continue typing, but mimicked Tony’s glare out into the sea of snow-covered cars instead. She gave a gentle squeeze to his muscled leg to force him to snap out of his sullen state of mind to look at her. With a little snort, the billionaire shook his head, placed his right elbow onto the center console and leaned back.

“Blast this city and its Christmas Shopping crazies. We’re _so_ heading back to Malibu as soon as the mansion’s finished, you betcha.”

Pepper gave a mild smile at his lopsided grimace; glad for the introduction to a topic that had been burning under her nails for the past weeks. She slipped her phone into the handbag before she cleared her throat and brushed some wayward bangs behind her ear. “Now that you mention it – what about holiday season? There’s the annual SI Christmas Party at the Tower here in New York. This is kind of special, seeing that it got finished and re-finished this year…”

She stopped, not wanting to mention the Chitauri attack more than necessary. “… and so far there are at least fifty invitations for you to attend all kinds of fancy New Year’s Eve parties all over the globe. Pick and choose, so to speak.” Tony did not reply and started to fiddle with the electronics of the heating system instead.

Pepper’s thoughts strayed back to the past decade. The anniversary of Howard and Maria Stark's deaths always led to Tony being home alone on a drinking binge. For the first three years, she had secretly driven up to his mansion to spy on him, making sure he was not doing something foolish. For the next three years he at least would call her in his drunken state, and for the past three years he had allowed her to stay with him, to not to feel utterly alone on the darkest day of the year.

Back in the present, Pepper berated herself for her impious question and attempted to pull back her hand from his thigh. “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me. Of course I’ll take care of the festivities and you can…” He interrupted her by placing a hand on hers, and gave her an intense look through molten-brown eyes. 

“No! It’s our first, real Christmas together, and I want this to be special. We’ll do the Christmas party at the Tower, and give them the chance to see us kissing underneath the mistletoe.”

Tony’s attention went back to the road where things were moving up, and he let go of her hand to put the mighty SUV into driving gear. He cast a swift look over his shoulder and switched lanes to speed up past several smaller cars with a powerful roar of the engine, and a semi-turn of the steering wheel. The Escalade obeyed without complaint; slippery roads no match for its large wheels.

After making up enough ground in between the solid line of cars, Tony chewed on his gum for a moment before he glanced at her again. ”But on that note: No New Year’s shindigs. Let’s do a quiet little candlelight dinner thing and watch the fireworks from the top floors of the Tower. Okay?” When they came to stop at a red light, Pepper leaned over to the left side as far as she could, cupped his cheek to turn his head towards her and applied an affectionate kiss to his warm lips.

“More than okay. Will that be all, Mister Stark?”

She felt him smile against her mouth. When she released him and sat back straight in her seat, she could not help but to allow a small, coy smile to appear on her lips. Even though he kept an eye on the red light, Tony gave her a smoldering look as his fingers drummed on the steering wheel to distribute the energy that cruised through his veins. He clicked his tongue and slightly shook his head.

“Little minx. For now that will be all, Miss Potts. But for later…”

The traffic light switched to green, and Tony pressed his foot down onto the accelerator. The Escalade shot ahead, off into the direction of the NYU Langone Medical Centre. To Pepper’s relief, they made it in time, before Happy had to miss out on another episode of his favorite TV show Downtown Abbey. To Tony’s relief, the rest of their evening was spent according to what the billionaire lovingly called the ‘Stark naked’ theme.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Gotham City, 28th  December 2010

 

Bruce Wayne stood at the weather-roughened tombstones and watched the snowflakes fall down onto the granite in silence. A shiver ran through his body, but he did not make a move to button up the coat he had thrown over after he stepped out into the lawns of Wayne Manor. Since Alfred was not around to tell him to get into the warmth, Bruce continued to stare down at the inscriptions of his parents’ names, lost in thought.

He had given the butler some time off during holiday season with all the persuasion he could muster up. Alfred had not wanted to quarrel anew with his protégé after their big fall out, eventually backed down, and did as he was told. What Bruce had not told him was that he wanted the elder man out of the potential line of fire when things would get ugly; soon enough.

All of Bruce’s throughout research and planning was completed, and he was ready for his battle against the terrorist called Bane. It was not what had been previously decided with Tony and Pepper, but Bruce had long since made up his mind that he did not want any more extra casualties to weigh down his conscience.

After Tony had defeated Aldrich Killian, A.I.M. members had flown the coop to reorganize in small splinter groups of organized crime squads.

While Bruce knew Maya Hansen had been found dead at the Miami harbor area, together with most Extremis-infected henchmen Killian had summoned, police files showed neither Bane nor Selina Kyle names on the lists of dead or arrested members. If they were as predictable as Bruce thought them to be, they would get back to Gotham, and recent developments had proven him right.

The billionaire inhaled piercing cold air through his nose, turned around and marched back up to the main entrance of the Manor.

He had been busy after Tony left with Pepper, deliberately busy. Even if Bruce could not begrudge them their love, a distinctive part of him raged with jealousy at the potential luck that had once again been snatched away, right under his nose. After all that had happened, his feelings were still not as easy to control as he wanted them to, but Bruce did his best to bury those dark thoughts deep down inside, where they could not hurt anybody else apart from him.

Once he had freed the familiar Kevlar suit from its confines, he assembled his arsenal. Preparation was key, especially tonight.

After hunting down the very Miss Selina Kyle, during her by all means inconspicuous return to Gotham weeks ago, Bruce had wanted to elicit the terrorist’s hideout from her. He had to admit to be quite impressed with the female thief; even back on their very first meeting, where she balanced on his windowsill and made an escape with his mother’s pearls. Bruce Wayne would make a point in retrieving them as well.

To garner the trust of the cat-like burglar had been impossible, even though Selina Kyle seemed to be kind of intrigued by the person that was Bruce Wayne. Therefore, the billionaire had shown up at events of Gotham’s money elite, and foiled each and every of her attempted little heists, allegedly by coincidence. With each thwarted plan, the young woman had become more enraged and, what Bruce had secretly hoped for, started making mistakes.

Her biggest mistake had been revealing Bane’s hideout in the sewers of Gotham. That had been two days ago, and Bruce had spent the previous days preparing himself for his final strike. Even though he was anything but hungry he forced himself to eat; knowing he needed every ounce of strength he could get. While he was not able to find sleep during the day, he made sure to at least rest his body as good as possible.

The knee bracket was fixed on his leg, and Bruce Wayne sneered at the irony of Tony Stark’s creation being his lucky charm.

When dusk approached, the Batman headed out into the night on his Batpod; his mind sharp and focused on the task at hand. His meticulous studies of Gotham’s sewer network would give him a good sense of orientation around the underground area. He wanted to draw Bane out, lead him through the sewers right beneath GCPD headquarters, and have the cops do the rest as he escaped into the night.

As he was about to learn, things would not turn out the way he had planned them to.

Bane was a monster; both in physique and in the way he fought. The last coherent thought that shot through Bruce’s mind was for Alfred. He hoped and prayed his butler would get into safety, once people found out the true identity of the masked crusader who had been killed in the sewers.

From her secret overlook, Selina Kyle watched in silent horror as the slick, red liquid mingled with puddles of sewerage, and two henchmen dragged the dark-clad, motionless figure away. She felt sick to the bone as she stared at the broken cowl left behind. Even though Selina had seen a lot of disturbing things in her life, the mental image of Bane breaking the other man’s back with a resounding snap would haunt her.

At that moment, the young woman knew she needed to get away as far away as possible. She knew Bane would never let her live through her crucial mistake of leading the Batman down to his hideout; almost succeeding in foiling his plans. Now that she had seen the degree of his sheer brutality delivered upon the vigilante, Bruce Wayne of all people, the cat-like burglar feared for her life after she had gotten involved with Bane.

Selina realized she had been downright foolish, to try and live off the crazed out plans of the terrorist with the grotesque respiratory system. When some kind of organization had ordered Bane to contact her to work for them, it seemed a good idea at a time with less to eat and less money to live off than usual. The young thief knew she would have been better off alone, trying to make a living by stealing what was needed to survive, just like before.

However, she had succumbed to Bane’s mind-boggling prospect of spitting into the faces of the upper class of Gotham, and it was going to come to bite her in the ass if she did not leave the country soon. A nagging, unknown feeling of guilt mixed within her anger and fear. Selina knew she had doomed the life of a potentially good man who, despite belonging to Gotham’s upper class, lived a double-life as the City’s vigilante.

She cursed herself for thinking more about Bruce Wayne than necessary, and was torn between hijacking it out of town, or redeeming her conscience by letting someone know about the fate of the young billionaire. If anyone was in the know at least, her conscience would have done her part. He would probably not even be alive long enough for anybody to save him, but she at least would had tried to make an effort to curb the unfamiliar feelings inside of her.

The lithe brunette changed into civil clothes in the restrooms of a small diner at South Point district before she hailed a cab to the airport.

***

Gotham City, 1st  January 2011

 

When Alfred Pennyworth returned to Wayne Manor after a week of forced vacation, the estate lay dark and abandoned.

Frowning, the elder butler paid the cabdriver and picked his suitcase off the snow-covered ground. When Bruce Wayne sent him away to spend Christmas with his family, Alfred had been more than reluctant to leave him alone after the breakup with Pepper Potts. With only some distant relatives in England, Alfred was quick to head back to the Palisades after New Year’s Eve; to the place he valued as his true home.

After he had searched in vain around the Manor and found no message from his protégé, Alfred got deeply concerned. He all but jumped at the ringing telephone that cut through the silence late at night. The hushed voice of a young woman he did not know, and who did not want to tell him her name, spoke to him, and when he could not even get her to tell him how she had gotten the number, Alfred was about to hang up on her.

“No! Wait - you gotta know they've got him. Bane and his people. I don’t know where they took him, but I think you don’t have much time left.”

The line went dead, and Alfred stared at the receiver as his other hand came up to clutch at his chest. In a trance, the butler hung up, went to the house bar and poured himself a shot of liquor. He dashed it down in one swift gulp. After a second shot, Alfred then felt a little more steadfast and walked up to one of the Manor’s large window fronts. As the alcohol burned down his throat, he considered possible options.

Lucius Fox would not be of much help, despite being in the know, and Alfred was kind of reluctant to contact Commissioner Gordon, as it meant to reveal everything Bruce Wayne had tried to conceal for years. However, Pennyworth was far more concerned for his protégé’s safety than for the anonymity of his alter-ego, and just about to make the call to GCPD, when another thought struck him.

***

New York, 1st  January 2011

 

In another setting, seven hundred miles away from Gotham City, two people got interrupted by the ringing of a mobile phone.

Tony Stark poked his head out from underneath the sheets. He gave a disdained snort at the immobile object a couple of feet away from the warm sanctuary of his designer, king-sized bed. A slender, fair-skinned arm next to him slung away the covers, and he whined against the atmosphere of cold departure into the dimly lit bedroom area of the loft.

“Nooo, don’t go answering that – c'mon, stay here.”

Pepper warded off nimble fingers that tried to persuade her to stay with him under the blankets, and smothered his adorable pout with a quick kiss before she slid out of the bed. She grinned at his whistled blow of admiration that followed the exposure of her naked, slim silhouette, and snatched a large t-shirt from the floor to cover up.

“Maybe it’s important. Be right back. You be a good boy in the meantime.”

When she looked back, the blanket was draped low across his hipbones and exposed Tony's bare, muscled chest with the trademark, glowing blue ARC in the middle. The billionaire’s hair was tousled, and he flicked the tip of his tongue into the corner of his mouth with a sexy grin as he crossed his arms behind his head.

“Uh huh. That sounded different not even twenty minutes ago.”  
His bluntness earned him a stern glance over her shoulder.  
Pepper moved on to reach her phone before the call would be lost to voice-mail.

She could not help but to let a pleasurable smile play upon her lips. After their first, official appearance at the Stark Industries Christmas party, they had stuck with Tony’s wish of spending New Year’s Eve exclusively at home. They had shared a fabulous, intimate dinner high up the Tower, made love to gentle jazz in the back, and watched the fireworks all over New York’s sky at midnight.

It had been followed by a New Year’s Day workout session at the Tower’s gym, and an afternoon winter walk to their favorite bakery and coffee shop. In short, their holidays had been nothing but pleasant and relaxing. Barefooted, Pepper padded across the plush carpeting to where her mobile phone buzzed around on the sideboard, next to two empty Venti coffee-to-go cups from Starbucks, and a cardboard muffin bag from Babycakes NYC.

With a quick glance at the display, where no picture or number indicated the caller, she raised the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Miss Potts? This is Alfred Pennyworth.”  
Surprised, Pepper turned away from the teasing sight of Tony Stark, who was stretching seductively to capture her attention.  
“Alfred – what a surprise! Happy new year to you – how are you doing?”

“Miss Potts, I apologize for calling you and for being straightforward, but something terrible has happened. It’s… Master Wayne.”  
The smile disappeared from her face. Concerned, Pepper walked off further towards the large glass front of the spacious bedroom.  
“God, no…. what’s wrong? Where is he?”

“I don’t know, Madam. Master Wayne has sent me away nearly over a week ago, and since I came back, there is no sign of him. Today I received a call from an unknown lady who told me ‘They have him and there is not much time left’.”

Pepper stepped close to the glass panels and placed one hand against the cool surface to steady herself. From the reflection of the illuminated room behind, she could see how Tony had sat up a little straighter in bed at her sudden change of demeanor. The young woman focused back on the butler’s voice and closed her eyes as she forced the next words out of her mouth. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Is he… alive?”  
A shuddering deep breath on the other line followed her question.  
“I am not sure, Miss Potts.”

Pepper tried to formulate another sentence, but felt her vision blur from the tears brimming in her eyes. She could not prevent the first strangled sobs to escape her lips. Out of the blue, a warm presence appeared next to her. A boxer shorts-clad Tony Stark put his arms around her quivering shoulders. With a distressed look upon his face and without further fussing, he gently took the phone from her trembling hands.

The billionaire continued to hold her in his embrace and spoke into the mouthpiece. After Tony had listened to the person at the other end for a few minutes, jaw set tight, and frowning into the snowy, gray evening, he spoke in a calm, serious voice. “Okay now, do me a favor: Go down to the cave and start up the system. I'll have Jarvis enter his mainframe and run a scan on anything we find. Get back to you in about ten.”

Tony hung up on the butler and slipped Pepper’s phone into the waistband of his shorts.  
He started to rub her back in soothing motions and looked into the clouded sky.  
“Don’t assume the worst yet – we’ll have Jarvis look into his files and see if we can get any clues about what’s going on.”

They sat in Tony’s private huge lab area at the top floors ten minutes later, clad in sweatpants and shirts, and listened as Alfred tried to come up with useful information. Bruce was without doubt an expert on concealing his traces, and even Jarvis was unable to produce any valuable insights on the billionaire’s current whereabouts. Tony quietly seethed along at the other man’s deceit to their deal as he listened to his AI.

“Hate to say it Sir, but I only have Mister Wayne’s voice identification to serve as backtracking opportunity. I need a valid DNA sample to start a reliable life-search.”

Tony drummed his fingers on the desktop and glanced at the woman next to him. Pepper had calmed down and was on the phone with Alfred. “Damn him and his sneaky stunts. We gotta get our hands on something that carries his DNA… hey Pep, ask him if he can spare one of Bruce’s hair- or toothbrushes, we need it!”

Pepper stopped talking for a second, and curiously seized the billionaire up, before she repeated his inquiry to the butler. When she nodded in affirmation, Tony snapped his fingers and sprang up from his seat. He walked over to the high-end platform that started to initiate the suiting up process of the latest Mark as soon as he stepped nearer.

“Good. I’ll be coming around in…"  
Tony paused to look upwards at his AI, feet already inside the boot protrusions.  
“… what’s my ETA to Gotham, J?”

“Twenty-seven point six minutes, Sir. The heavy snowstorms around New York and Chicago are going to slow you down by approximately five point six minutes, as opposed to your regular velocity.”

Pepper Potts told Alfred to stand by, and stood up to walk over to where Tony was clad in a pair of shiny, red-gold boots. After the battle with Killian left him only with a damaged Mark XXXIX, Tony had revamped the suborbital suit design from the “Gemini” suit, and remodeled it into a far advanced version called “Godkiller”. She mustered him as he suited up.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”  
Tony waited until the station had surrounded and clad him in his latest armor with smooth, electronic whirrs.  
His faceplate stayed open so that he could give her a lopsided grin.

“Dunno what you’re thinking, honey, but I’m not getting pizza. Tell Jeeves I’m at his door in approximately half an hour, to pick up the item in question.”

As the steel hatch above him opened and a sharp gust of winter air streamed in, Pepper stepped back and watched her lover rise into the air. He hovered on the spot to glance down and blow her one last kiss, before his jet-packs ignited and he shot up to disappear in the sky. The hatch closed seconds later and Pepper focused back on the person on the other line.

“Alfred? Tony is on his way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not an expert on all those suits that were used in IM3. I do remember seeing a graphic with all their individual names, and I'm going to mess with a couple of them in future chapters.


	14. Chapter 14

When the butler opened the door thirty minutes later, Iron Man had just touched down at the Manor’s snowy entrance.  
Alfred watched the large, metal humanoid clank over towards him with heavy steps.  
“Now this is more like it; the landing I mean. Nothing like last time, eh?”

When no reply came, Tony remembered to switch his faceplate open and regarded the silent older man who was holding a small, wrapped item. “Yeah, well, I take it you’ve got everything necessary in there, right? Right.” Tony awkwardly extended a gloved hand, and Alfred placed it across the non-activated palm repulsor.

“Mister Stark, I am unspeakably thankful for your efforts. I hope you are able to receive a sign of hope soon. Have a safe way home.”

With these words the butler stepped back and closed the doors. Dumbfounded, Tony stood in front of the darkened entrance for a few moments as Alfred turned the locks and bolts soundly shut, and glanced around to make sure he was not being punked. With a shake of his head he slipped the item into his suit, resumed a flight-ready position, and snapped his visor shut.

Jarvis started to reroute the quickest way back to New York, and for once Tony let him, instead of going over the routes manually.  
His brows still furrowed in bafflement he curled his upper lip behind the HUD.  
”What in everything that’s holy was that, huh?”

When Jarvis identified his question as rhetorical and remained silent, Tony got ready for lift-off and sped away into the night. He made a call as soon as he was airborne. While he waited for the connection to be steady, he fastened loving eyes upon the little 2D picture that popped up in the upper left corner of his HUD. After one ring, the line got picked up, and he smiled at the familiar voice that echoed through his helmet.

”Mission successful?”  
Pepper’s voice did not betray the anxious undertone that resonated within her question. “You betcha, sweetheart. Though I’d hate to be a kid from Gotham, coming up to Wayne Manor for trick or treat on Halloween, but that's a whole nother story. See ya in twenty.”

When Tony got back to the Tower, he switched the suit for a warm, felted hoodie and matching sweatpants Pepper had laid out for him. When his cold hands brushed hers, she got up from her place on the couch, put her hair into a makeshift ponytail and went into the kitchen area to prepare two large cups of tea. Tony lowered himself in a futuristic looking designer lounge chair in front of his mainframe station and evaluated the data he had fed to Jarvis.

”Extracting DNA from hair sample. Target subject: Wayne, Bruce. Male, Caucasian. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Hazel. DOB: 02/19/77. Height: 6’1. Weight: 190 lbs. The initializing process will take about sixty seconds.”

Over the sound of Jarvis' voice, Pepper walked up to Tony and handed him a steaming mug. He took it with a thankful glance before he turned back to the various bars and graphics. The young woman snuggled up close, and Tony extended his legs to let her sit in between, her back against his chest. With careful blows at the hot steam that curled atop her mug, the redhead regarded the busy screens.

”What’s your next step, once you have the information you need?”

She felt Tony shift as he placed his mug onto the floor and sat up straight to slide both of his arms around her waist and pull her closer. The ARC pressed into her spine, but it was a familiar feeling; reassuring Pepper he was safe and sound. “Once Jarvis is all set we’ll have him scan the surroundings, surfaces and whatnots for something that matches Bruce’s genetic structure.”

Pepper stared ahead with a thoughtful expression and gnawed at her bottom lip. She knew Tony refrained from going genius on her with his explanations, but his method seemed far fetched, even to her. “Okay, but how long is that going to take? Maybe they’ve already…” She stopped, not wanting to dwell on the darkest of her fears. Tony exhaled for her to hear and his arms sunk next to her hips.

“I’ll do whatever I can, Pep, but I’m no magician. For all we know, he could just be somewhere in a dark alley of Gotham - or already halfway around the world.” When she slumped in his embrace, Tony leaned back into the Alcantara furniture and exhaled through his nose. He looked at the freckles on her exposed nape before he trailed them with an index finger.

“Remember Afghanistan, and how you didn’t give up hope during those three months.”  
It was Pepper’s turn to inhale sharply, and she turned to look at him. Her wide eyes darted in between his, and he gave a crooked grin.  
“Despite everything, I made it back. And Bruce's a fighter; even more so than I was. We’ll find him, I promise.”

With caution to the hot mug in her hand, Pepper raised her free palm to cup Tony’s cheek and leaned in for a soft kiss. Then she unraveled from her seating arrangement and walked over to snatch the phone from the table. He followed her with his eyes as she toyed with the mobile in her hand, unsure for a moment.

“I’m not really hungry, but I’m going to order something for dinner anyway. Any wishes?”  
Tony shrugged in indifference.  
“Surprise me.”

He watched her nod and walk off into the living room.  
After she was out of earshot, he turned back to his AI, his voice low.  
“So… how long _does_ it take, J?”

“The amount of data I’ve checked since you started the search equals 0.00000000001 percent of its total duration...”  
Impatient, the billionaire grunted and waved him off.  
“In _days_ , Jarvis – gimme a certain number of days.”

“At this point of time, we are looking at a time frame of 41 to 72 days, Sir.”  
With a groan Tony buried his face in his hands and rubbed it in frustration.  
“Fuck, is nothing ever easy these days.”

***

Pain.

All Bruce could feel was pain.  
Excruciating pain, sharp and consistent.  
It penetrated his body and mind with every shuddering breath he took.

During the brief periods of time he was awake, he wished to never wake up again; wished for anything to make the pain stop at last. His wishes never got granted to him, however, and after some more time had passed by, Bruce stopped wishing. His delirious mind tried to focus on where he was, but his tormentors never showed their faces, until eventually, Bane himself showed up.

“Why don’t you just…” Bruce’s voice was hoarse and laced with exhaustion from the latest round of torture.“…kill me?” The terrorist’s eyes narrowed with hatred. “You don't fear death, you welcome it.Your punishment must be more severe. We will destroy Gotham, and then, when it is done and Gotham is ashes, then you have my permission to die.”

Bane rose from the cot, pressed down hard onto his hostage’s ribcage, and watched in perverted fascination as Bruce screamed out loud in agony from the searing pain of his broken back. The terrorist left without another word; his distorted laughter echoing out of the prison cell.  Left behind, Bruce panted and retched in turns, as tears of despair and pain escaped his squeezed eyes.

On a dirty cot somewhere, no one including himself knew about, the former prince of Gotham lay and shook from blood loss, malnutrition and bone-numbing coldness. He knew he would die there, at world’s end, without being able to prevent the evil from unleashing over his city. Distant murmurs of a foreign language reached his ears, and dirty hands started to tug and pull at the sheets that surrounded his weak body.

He blended out the ache that rippled through him with every jostle, and envisioned Alfred, Gordon and all the innocent people of Gotham. They would suffer a horrible fate like him, maybe worse, with no one to save or protect them in time. Too weak and dehydrated to cry for them, Bruce welcomed the febrile darkness that engulfed him once more, as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

***

New York, March 2011

 

It had been two and a half months of hell, not knowing whether Bruce was alive or dead, and Pepper felt her hopes sink with every new day.

The worst by far had been Bruce’s birthday on February 19th. She had debated going to Gotham, to keep Alfred company on what was an unbearable torture for the elder man, but the stoic butler had refrained. He had just managed to get the press off his back with a story of how Bruce Wayne left Gotham City after his breakup, to travel the world as a bachelor, and did not need extra attention.

Pepper understood, but kept in touch with Pennyworth via phone at least twice a week. They tried to keep each others spirits up, holding on to the hopes of Bruce being on the run or being in hiding somewhere. So far, there had been no ransom demands or shocking news about the billionaire in the papers or on TV. It seemed like nobody knew where Wayne was.

Tony continued to let Jarvis scan the world for a sign of life from the Gothamite, but his patience also was wearing more than thin after the past ten weeks. The rebuilding of Stark mansion in Malibu had been put on hold ever since, but neither Tony nor Pepper spoke to anybody about the real reasons behind it. While New York provided closer proximity to Gotham, the Stark Tower facilities had a fully operational medical station up top, including laboratories.

To be on the safe side, Pepper had seen to a small crew of trusted SI medical staff members and doctors re-checking the inventory, ever since she received the news of Bruce gone missing, and Tony had let her concede. At one point, he had considered getting the Avengers into the big picture, but Pepper talked him out of it; stating that as soon as S.H.I.E.L.D. got wind of Bruce Wayne being the Batman, things would take a turn for the worse.

They kept their project hidden from anybody else whilst leading their lives with as much normalcy as they could muster up. Though Tony was not emotionally involved, he was mad beyond belief how not even his state-of-the-art tech was able to get a hold of the missing man. Pepper on the other hand hovered between feelings of guilt, utter desperation, and busied herself with work.

On a dreary Saturday afternoon late March, Tony returned to the Tower from where he had visited Happy at the rehab center. As usual he cast a glum look over to a screen which showed all of the countries Jarvis had scanned so far. Countries like Australia, most of Europe, the northern countries and unfortunately also North and South America were already done and blinked red to indicate negative search results.

Tony knew, as Jarvis worked his way through the Middle East, his accuracy was bound to reach its limits sooner or later.

He reappeared in the living room, threw the used hand towel onto the nearby dining table and searched for his queen of hearts. When she was nowhere in sight, Tony addressed his electronic majordomo. “Hey J, where’s Pepper? Gym? Shopping? Her office? Geez, if it’s the office, I’m gonna carry her out of there in a fireman’s lift for everybody to see! Goddamn weekend, and that woman is clearly working too much…”

He ranted on while walking over to the fridge and sticking his head inside for something fizzy to drink, when Jarvis spoke up.

“We have an indirect match for Rajasthan, India, Sir.”  
Confused, Tony pulled his head back out and glanced over the fridge door into the room.  
“That seems quite a stretch for her to spend a Saturday… c’mon J, cut the crap and spill.”

“Miss Potts is in fact downstairs in the recreation area, Sir. I do, however, have detected a hint regarding the possible location of Mister Wayne.”

Tony slammed the fridge shut and was over the couch and in front of his mainframe with two long strides and a jump. He stared at the monitor and studied Jarvis’ process for a second. “Cut down all of the other surround search activities. Focus and intensify on areas in and around India.”

“Sir, I have to inform you it might be a false lead, as previously encountered. Cutting off the other current search progresses will result in delay, if the India trace is invalid.” The billionaire threw himself into a swivel chair, made a wiping gesture to which a virtual keyboard appeared in front of him and started typing. “Doesn’t matter, do as I say. For once we go with the one thing I own but sadly can’t install in you – instinct.”

When he had altered the search parameters to suit his needs, Tony watched the screens in terse anticipation. He hoped his gut feeling would serve him right. If not, there would be hell to pay, once Pepper found out why the search was stringed out more than necessary. After another twenty minutes, the AI managed to pinpoint the location of the missing person to a place in Jodhpur, Rajasthan.

Tony’s fingers tapped his ARC in a nervous rhythm as he had Jarvis load the data into his suit. He wanted to go through all details during his flight to India in order not to lose any more time. Then the billionaire went over to one of the many intercoms distributed all over the penthouse complex and touched the screen. After mere moments, the make-up free face of Pepper Potts appeared on screen.

She wore a pair of frame-less designer glasses instead of contact lenses and a stoic expression, but her countenance lit up upon seeing him. “Tony! How was the visit? Is Happy still hitting on that nurse from physical therapy? Since he’s making progress in being able to walk on his own, he’s been after her like a teenaged…”

Impatient he cut her off, trying hard not to fidget like a kid.  
“Pep, I think we got him.”  
Her confused stare almost mimicked his earlier expression. She gave a slight shake of her head, almost as if not hearing him right.

“Come again?”  
Now Tony could not help but to shift from one foot to the other, clearly fidgeting.  
“I think we found Bruce.”

In not even three minutes, Pepper was by his side, glasses clutched in her fist to keep them safe during her sprint. She stared at the screens, where for the past couple of months everything had flashed red. Now there was a single, green spot marking India as final destination. The young woman closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer heavenwards, before she reopened them and saw Tony getting ready to suit up.

With her glasses back upon her nose, Pepper followed him to the platform.  
“I’ll have the medical control unit ready upon your arrival – anything else?”  
Tony zipped his undersuit shut, came back to take her face in between his hands, and kissed her with raw passion.

Pepper’s hands wound themselves around his body to rest on his lower back.  
“Lab unit ST-979 as well - just in case. But no other staff around when we come in; just you and Jarvis. Oh, and miss me while I’m gone, ‘kay?”  
With a final squeeze to his firm backside, Pepper looked deep into his large brown eyes.

“Don’t I always? Good luck, Tony - and be careful.”  
She stepped back and watched as the Godkiller suit engulfed him. His mechanically filtered voice reached her ears.  
“Hey - ain’t I always?”

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a warning of some sort; for mentions of off-screen torture and the not-so-pretty results.
> 
> Basically I never understood how Bruce was able to look as muscular and well-nourished as he did in TDKR, after only eating those strange... chips? And so, yeah, I do feel bad for making him suffer in this fic; my apologies in advance!

High up the sky, Tony surveyed the blinking items on his HUD before he addressed his AI. “Jarvis, set for Mach 3 and run that info on fort whatsitsname by me again. If they got him trapped in there, I want the quickest in-and-out route there is.”

“Right away, Sir. Background information on Rajasthan and fort Mehrangarh is being uploaded. ETA in Jodhpur will be in four hours, thirteen minutes.” The billionaire pursed his lips and glimpsed at the speedometer readouts. “How many miles do I have to go?”

“The designated location is 7.350 miles away from your current position. India is nine hours and thirty minutes ahead of New York standard time.” Tony mulled over the information for a split second before he made up his mind. “Okay, let’s try to squeeze out more juice of this baby here. Engage back-mounted afterburners, switch to Mach 5, and sustain. I wanna make it in less than three if possible.”

“Sir, there is the risk of micro-stress fractures which the suit may develop over travel duration at high speed. It may ultimately reduce the longevity of the armor, or require greater service time upon your return.”

“Yeah, sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. I’ll deal with it later, after we found Wayne. Until then stick with current settings and only alert me in case of anything severe. I’m gonna take a nap.”

Thanks to Jarvis’ foresight and meticulous planning, Tony woke two and a half hour later, well-rested, and just crossing the district borders of Pali. “Sir, fort Mehrangarh is going to be in visible range in five minutes. My recalculations have shown that the signal I received from Mister Wayne is not a hundred percent accurate to that location.”

Tony took over to initiate the landing process. His eyes wandered across the vast scenery of rural India as his HUD displayed a colossal, majestic fort in the distance. “Do a sweep of the surrounding area again; I’m landing on top of those gates.” With a massive, metallic clomp Iron Man came to a halt atop high, solid stone walls. He scanned the area while Jarvis re-calibrated the search parameters.

“According to my calculations, the destination you are looking for is subsurface.”  
Tony squinted in concern behind his faceplate.  
“How far underground are we talking here?”

“About 420 feet, Sir.”

“Fuck, did they bury him alive or what?”

“I have picked up a very distinctive, but very weak signal of the DNA tracker module.”

Iron Man ignited his jet-pack boots once again, and sped off into the direction his AI pointed him to. He did not have to fly further than a couple of hundred feet to be met with a deserted giant hole in the ground, framed by heavy sandstone blocks. Without second thoughts, Tony dove headfirst into the unknown abyss, unsure of what he would find, and if Bruce Wayne was even alive down there.

He kept his repulsor sensors combat-ready, and had Jarvis run permanent scans of the approaching ground level. Before he touched down, Tony stopped short in mid-air and hovered above a strange construction of cell blocks, stairways and basins made of stone and rusty metal. The suit whirred softly as Iron Man landed, glanced around, and began to examine the location.

“Boy, this sure looks like M. C. Escher has thrown up all over the place. Jarvis, locate Bruce’s current position.”

“Mister Wayne is further down the aisle, Sir. I am detecting a lot of foreign presences around, though none of them are armed.”

With a whooshing sound, Tony surged forward into the dark labyrinth of cell blocks. To his left and right he made out faces from several prisoners behind bars, who squealed and hid away in horror at the foreign object. Finally, the cross-hairs inside his HUD blinked green, and Tony decelerated with a sharp turn in front of a dark cell and touched down onto sandy ground. Nothing inside the cell seemed to move.

Iron Man gripped the bars, tore away the front grating, and threw it aside with a clatter. Movement in the back of the cell erupted, and Tony caught some hushed scraps of a language foreign to him. Before he could tell Jarvis to translate, a white-haired man appeared out of the shadows, his hands in a surrendering gesture above his head. His movements were off as he stumbled and nearly lost his footing.

Not sure whether this was a trick, Tony widened his stance and held up a repulsor-clad palm at the stranger.  
”Sir, it seems as if the man is blind.”  
The elder man frowned up at him, trying to place the strange noises from the suit.

Tony lowered his hand with slow movements and the ignition noise died down.  
“Vahām̐kauna hai? Tuma kauna hō?”  
In an instant, Jarvis translated the questions into English for Tony to understand.

The other man wanted to know who he was and what he wanted. Tony mustered him with hesitation, unsure whether he would even be understood. He knew Hindi when he heard it, but never took the time or interest in obtaining said language to his repertoire of conversation. If anything, Jarvis had to help him out.

“I’m looking for a… friend. He’s been brought here.”  
His opposite cocked his head at the electronic voice and gathered the tatters of his dirty woolen shawl tighter around him.  
“You… American?”

From where he nodded at first, Tony remembered the other man could not see him. “Yes I am.” With caution, the unkempt man shuffled nearer, until he bumped into Iron Man’s outstretched arm. Tony tried to keep him as far away from his ARC as possible. With small, careful movements the old man started fingering the metal gauntlet.

After a moment, his lifeless eyes fixated the faceplate; eerily accurate to where he assumed his visitor’s face to be, and shook his head at Tony. “You not sound… human. Sent by Bane, you?” Despite his broken English the man seemed to understand better than he spoke, and Tony repeated the cause of his visit, a little more insistent this time.

“I am sent by my friends – we’re looking for a young American man who was brought here. Where is he?”  
Fighting his impatience, Tony glanced around to make sure no surprise guards would be cornering him within the cell.  
With a cough, the elder man then lightly tapped his gauntlet.

“I show what you look for. Come.”  
Tony followed him further into the cell.  
He engaged night vision mode and saw an unmoving heap huddled on a rickety cot in the far corner.  
  
His pulse quickened as he stepped nearer.  
“He not wake up – three days. Fever bad, very bad. He very sick.”  
Teeth clenched tight, Tony watched the blind man fumble his way over to the cot and pull away the dirty rugs.

His eyes closed in revulsion at the sight of the battered and bruised countenance, belonging to none other than Bruce Wayne. The first thing Tony made out beneath all the grime and blood was the man’s extreme gauntness; he looked downright skeletal. Appalled Tony noticed how the skin stretched over Bruce’s already prominent cheekbones, almost painful, and far too noticeable behind a straggly, full beard.

“Fuck, what have these bastards done to him?” While he muttered to himself, Tony wasted no time in bending down and attempting to lift the unconscious Gotham billionaire into his arms. The blind man to his right heard and sensed his motions, and vehemently shook his head.

“No, no, not move. Move and he break.”  
Torn between anger and confusion, Iron Man straightened back up to his full height and looked down at the motionless body.  
“Jarvis - scan Bruce for all kinds of injuries, especially internal ones.”

While he waited for his AI to complete the scan, Tony fervently mulled on how to get Bruce out of the hellhole and to New York. If his injuries were more severe than assumed, he needed a new plan. As Bruce’s critical vitals popped up before his eyes, displaying a body weight of mere 119 pounds, Tony thought he was going to be sick behind his faceplate. Jarvis then spoke up.

“Sir, Mister Wayne has at least one, if not more, slipped spinal discs, and several tears of the anterior disc. My scans are not able to get the full extend of his injuries, but it appears there are bone splinters resting on the spinal cord. He is highly dehydrated and undernourished, and his body is fighting several centers of infection with a fever in the 100.9° F range.”

Despite being clad in one of the most advanced suits which existed on the entire planet, Tony Stark felt utterly helpless at that very moment. “Blasted - is there no chance for me to get him out of here alive? What if I try to move him; can we figure out how to avoid worsening his condition?” Tony watched the blind man crouched in front of the cot face apply a wet, dirty rag to Bruce’s pale and clammy forehead.

“If you try to move him without proper support, there is a high probability Mister Wayne ends up paralyzed for life or worse, Sir.”

The genius inventor hung his head low and breathed a few times through his nose behind his HUD. His mind raced as he went through different scenarios, which all did not live up to his expectations. After a few moments, a brainwave crossed his mind and his eyes lit up. Thankful for his cognitive control module that had undergone a massive reworking process, Tony nodded to himself.

“Jarvis, activate the X-51 Stealth Infiltrator Armor. Have it assembled at the tower and ready for lift-off.”

Since his impressive hall of fame had gotten erased after the Miami battle, Tony had set certain priorities when it came to creating new suits. He knew Pepper would have his head on a silver platter if he built another huge armada of suits, as much fun as that had been. Apart from the one he currently wore, Tony was experimenting with three other suit variations back in New York.

Much to his relief, the armor he needed the very moment was the second one to have gotten finished. “Sir, I take it you want to use the Rescue armor on Mister Wayne. May I remind you the X-51 momentarily is only able to accommodate Miss Potts just as you programmed it to?”

“Guess you've got something to do until then, J. Reprogram it to fit Bruce’s measurements… or what's left of them.” He glanced down at the beaten body of the man who had been twice his own size and cleared his throat. “Have Rescue on Mach 5 as well, and use any kind of acceleration there is. I need it here ASAP - or at least in less than three hours.”

Forced to wait, Tony busied himself by freeing the remaining prisoners from their cell blocks. He took turns in preparing suitable devices for an easy exit and flew out those who were too weak to manage the climb on their own. After two hours and fifteen minutes, Tony had freed the entire pit, including the blind man that had taken care of Bruce, and Jarvis indicated the arrival of the Rescue armor.

Extra careful, he started to assemble the lower parts of the armor upon Wayne first, and attempted to lift him in a way that put as little stress on his back as possible. “Ah, Brucie, truly a shame, that the only time I’m ever allowing you to try out one of my suits is when you don’t even get to witness all the fun.”

Tony monitored Rescue within his own suit after he took off with the unconscious man secured within the robust armor.  
When they shot up into the sky to leave the pit behind, and he was about to set for Mach 3, Jarvis interfered.  
“Sir, the supersonic speed would cause severe damage to Mister Wayne’s injuries.”

Tony swung around mid-flight, aimed the wrist mounted anti-tank missile launchers at the gaping hole and took out his anger. The construction collapsed within a cloud of stone, dust and debris as the pit sealed its own fate; never to be used again to capture any living object in it. “Okay Jarvis, keep steady tabs on his vital functions and hydration levels. We have a long and painful way back home to go.”

“Of course, Sir. ETA in New York in 6 hours, 27 minutes at current velocity. In the meantime, I can recommend a few audio books.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

New York, March 2011

 

For the past ten hours, sleep had eluded Pepper Potts.

As much as she tried to wind down and get some rest, her thoughts always strayed back to Bruce and the shape he would be in after Tony would hopefully bring him back alive. She refused to accept any other scenario, and while a part of her willed the phone to ring, another part hoped that not getting a call from Tony only meant no unforeseen events had happened.

Jarvis of course kept her company back in New York, but Tony had activated the on-mission protocol right after he touched down in India, which left the real-time tracking of his whereabouts out of her range of influence. If her billionaire did not want her to inquire about the current status of his mission, then Pepper had to roll with the punches, whether she liked it or not.

Around 1AM, a chiming sound woke her from where she had managed to doze off on the couch of their living room. With a start she jolted awake and looked around for a sign of Tony when Jarvis spoke up.

“Mister Stark on secured line one, Miss Potts. Shall I put him on hands-free device?”  
Pepper brushed tousled hair away from her forehead and reached out for the headset.  
“Yes, please.”

There was a lot of rustling and a heavy draft that made understanding near impossible, but then Tony’s voice floated through to her.

“Pep? You there?”

She sprang up from the couch, threw the blanket aside and started walking towards the large circular staircase that connected the living room with Tony’s private working area. “Yes, I can hear you, though the connection is quite bad. Where are you?”

“We’re just crossing the Atlantic Ocean, shouldn’t take longer than one hour. Maybe one and a half. I just wanted to make sure everything’s ready.”

He stayed silent after that and Pepper sensed his discomfort.  
“How is he? Can I speak to him?”  
More silence ensued. She mentally braced herself.

“Tony please – I need to know!” The sound of a cleared throat reached her ears. “He’s alive, but… barely. These bastards messed him up pretty bad. Wouldn’t want you to witness firsthand, but I guess I can hardly stop you. So, do me a favor and gear up a tank will you?”

Stark Labs was the first area to be equipped with customized, private sensory attenuation chambers. Thanks to Tony’s inner nerd, the vertical floatation tanks looked like sleek, modern day versions right out of Star Wars. Pepper stomped up the stairs to do as Tony required her to. She wiped at the hindrance of her brimming eyes and busied herself with the control panel.

“No, you’re right, you can’t stop me. What mixture ratio do I set the tank for?”  
Tony heard her sniff and knew Bruce Wayne still owned a spot in her heart, no matter what.  
He tried extra hard to not let the sudden bout of nasty jealousy seep into his voice as he answered.

“Let’s do a saturation of 800 lbs of anti-microbial magnesium sulfate with a combo of ozonation and hydrogen peroxide. Oh, and include the active carbon filtration system as well.” Pepper was silent as she typed in the specifications. With a deep, humming sound, one of the tanks next to her came to life and slowly started to fill up with a clear, hypertonic solution. “In process. Do you need me to do anything else?”

Her voice was strong and steady, and Tony smiled into the darkness outside the HUD. He caught himself wanting to tell her he loved her, but also knew the timing was far from right. From way before Bruce’s capture, the destruction of his mansion, the Avengers, or even Monaco, Tony knew he must have felt it all those years; only he had been unable to identify the unknown condition.

Neither of them had said the famous three words to the other since the beginning of their tender relationship, and while Tony felt it growing with each new day, he still feared rejection like back in Gotham, where it had slipped from his tongue first. “Nah, or maybe yes – power up the coffee maker as well while you’re at it, I need all the pick-me-ups I can get during the next hours.”

Before they hung up Pepper assured him everything would be ready when he got home, and Tony could not help but to increase speed a little, to make it within sixty minutes. He made sure to keep an eye on Bruce’s vitals, and when Jarvis did not protest, Tony kept the pace and almost breathed a sigh of relief when the silhouettes of New York’s skyscrapers appeared in the distance.

***

Once the suits were back on solid ground at the Tower and the hatch had closed behind them, Pepper stood in the doorway of the private lab; eyes hard and lips a thin line. Tony flipped his faceplate open and looked at her severe face.

“Tank's ready?” She gave a curt nod, walked up to him and mustered the second suit with a mixture of confusion and agitation. “So that’s what I heard earlier on. I thought I was going crazy, imagining an Iron Man suit lifting off without you. But apparently, that’s what it was.”

As Jarvis disassembled Godkiller from him, Tony's sweat-soaked body shivered at the distinct change in temperature. He could feel and smell how in dire need of a shower he was, but he wanted to get Bruce out of the other suit and into the tank first. Tony rubbed his itching, stinging face a couple of times within his palms before he made a sweeping gesture at the static Rescue suit nearby, its eye slits dark and lifeless.

”Okay Jarvis, nice and easy. Think it’s best if we dip his lower body first. Have Rescue keep a tight hold onto his torso until he’s halfway in. And don’t jostle him up!”

Pepper stepped closer to Tony and watched along how the suit responded to Tony’s verbal instructions. Once the boots and metal leg parts were gone, a pair of limp, dirty feet and legs appeared in the neon light of the lab. She bit down hard on the insides of her cheeks. From the corner of her eye, Pepper saw Tony casting her a gauging look, even though he remained silent.

“Good. Now activate ultraviolet sterilization and keep temperature at 95.9 F°. If it gets too saline for him, adjust the ratio accordingly.”

With a flicker, the surrounding lights from inside the tank switched to a soothing, bluish-violet color, and a hydroelectric turbine from underneath the tank started to bubble up the water. When the rest of Bruce’s Wayne emaciated body followed suit and slid into the tank, Pepper wanted to look away. She could not; too paralyzed with horror.

Blood and grime mingled with clear water, and the redhead pressed the heel of her hand upon mouth and nose. Concerned, Tony put a warm hand upon her shoulder and spoke in a soft voice. “They’ve broken his back several times, amongst other things. That’s why the way back took so long - we had to go slow, or else the risk of paralyzing him would’ve been too high.”

When the unconscious form got hooked up to an oxygen mask, and electrodes were placed across his torso, Pepper finally averted her eyes. In a haze she stared at the control panel, which continued to violently blink red for a while. “He looks like he’s not going to make it, Tony. Look at him, he’s barely there…” At her whisper, the hand on her shoulder pulled her into an embrace, and Pepper leaned against the sweat-stained neoprene suit. Tony’s fingers closed around her arm.

“Under normal circumstances - no, probably not longer than two more days. But I've got a plan on saving him, and I need to get started right now.”  
Her blue eyes were suspiciously wet, but still quite composed as they searched for his.  
“How?”

Tony tried to formulate a smile; the one he reserved for when he was not entirely sure of himself. Like now.

“I’m going to use the Extremis virus on Bruce.”  
Mouth agape, the woman next to him broke free from his embrace.  
“Are you out of your mind? It’ll kill him!”

Indignant, Tony walked a few steps away and towards the tank. He zipped down his undersuit to move his head and neck more freely. “Really? Bonus question, Pep: What’s gonna be quicker? Extremis? Or the massive infections, fatal injuries, and splintered bones wreaking havoc on his immune system and organs right now?”

When she stayed silent, Tony ordered Jarvis to strip Bruce from the dirty rags and dispose them into the garbage chute underneath the tank. The chamber was tinted from waist down to ensure a decent level of modesty. “We need to… contact Alfred soon - just in case. He has a right to be with him, if…” Her monotone voice got Tony to swing back around to her, irritated. Pepper just stood there with her arms wrapped around her body.

“I’m _not_ letting him die, Pepper! Not if I can help it. I’ve had the right formula once, I can do it again! All I need is some time… and... someone who believes in me doing things right for, like, once'd be nice!”

It came out harsher then he intended. Tony clamped his mouth shut and scuffed tired feet over to the laboratory bench. He plopped down onto a highchair with a grunt, ran a hand through already messed up hair several times, and tried to concentrate on finding a start. After a couple of moments, footsteps followed him. Pepper’s arms found their way around his neck from behind soon after.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you. Forgive me.”  
Her hands softly stroked the bare skin around his collarbone, and Tony inhaled audibly before he gave a curt nod.  
“It’s okay. It’s a rough time for you, I… understand.”

Pepper switched to giving his tense shoulders a brief massage before she released him.  
“I’ll get you some coffee.”  
When he only nodded again in response, she left him to his work.

On her way out, she stole one last glance at the lifeless man who drifted within the huge glass cylindrical object, almost weightless. If she had not felt overwhelmed by the horrid situation regarding Bruce, Pepper had almost wanted to blurt out ‘I love you’ at Tony right there and then. She berated herself; glad to have kept it to herself at such an inappropriate moment.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has something akin to a Bacta-Tank at home, it totally would be Tony Stark, imho. Ahh, the nostalgia of my very first fandom ever (Yes, original trilogy only. No, I'm not that old. Pssh.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the background info on Extremis taken from wikipedia/marvel wiki.

Later that night found the genius inventor rooted to his desk, surrounded by a cluster of volumetric flasks, centrifuge tubes, culture dishes and stacks of scribbled notes with mile-long formulas on them. Despite the fact that Stark Labs was able to make the dream of the paperless office come true, Tony himself preferred to the good old-fashioned way of scribbling during his brainstorming.

“Jarvis, what about test number fourteen? Jury’s still out on that one, or do we finally have a winner?”

He rubbed aching temples with a thumb and index finger, drowned the remains of his coffee, and pulled a face at the bitter aftertaste. So far, Tony had experimented with over a dozen different formulas; none of which bringing the desired effect that ensured Bruce to live without spitting fire, turning yellow, or growing a second head.

“Test fourteen shows a positive reaction regarding the graphite nanotubes concentration, Sir. If you manage to fit it in the carrier fluid without dissolving issues, the outcome might be positive with a single injection.”

Tony's bloodshot eyes wandered over to Bruce’s still form in the floating tank and regarded the skeletal man. After two more exchange cycles, the saline solution had finally stayed clear after having washed away all blood and dirt off Bruce’s battered body. He now looked even thinner; dark bruises and red welts covering torso, legs and arms, and his ribcage protruding from underneath too pale skin.

With his uncut hair and beard floating around him like a halo, Tony morbidly thought Bruce Wayne looked like a crucified Jesus.  
He twisted his mouth in grim determination and drummed impatient fingers upon the desktop.  
“So, wanna tell me the odds again, J?”

The billionaire harrumphed and stretched his stiff and aching muscles. Time was running out, and he fervently prayed for the current test to work. If not, he had to flush the last two hours down the drain. “Extremis works on people who possess a rare genetic sequence, found in only 2.5 % of human population. Anyone exposed to the virus without this sequence will effectively be killed by the system.”

With Bruce’s vitals starting to spiral downwards, Tony pushed all of his self-doubts aside and slapped his palms onto his thighs in a finalized manner. “Guess it’s time to find out if our dear Brucie here belongs to that rare breed of special people or not.” He took the small vial from the centrifuge and pushed the safety goggles back over his eyes.

“Seeing Extremis hacks the body's repair center to rewrite it, Mister Wayne’s chances of survival will likely be determined in the first of the three stages. His body becomes an open wound as the normal human blueprint is being replaced with the Extremis’ blueprint.” Jarvis rattled off information while Tony willed his sleep-deprived system to keep his fingers steady.

He extracted the serum and pipetted it into the clear carrier fluid. Tony held his breath as the two substances mingled, and the test tube became palpably warmer by the second.

“Sir, may I also remind you the Extremis protocol dictates the subject to be placed on life support and intravenously fed nutrients afterwards. At stage two, the patient remains unconscious while Extremis uses the nutrients and body mass to grow new organs for the next two or three days.”

Impatient, the genius nodded at his AI and watched as the chemical reaction deflagrated with a small, sizzling puff of smoke.  
“Yeah, course. Tell me something that I don’t know.”  
Since Jarvis was not programmed to take offense, he informed his creator of the impending arrival of Pepper Potts.

Through the reflection in the glass panels in front, Tony watched familiar red-blondish hair coming down the stairs. Pepper was dressed in a comfortable arrangement of shirt and sweatpants, and her eyes were small and hidden behind glasses. At some point, she might have had attempted to go to sleep, but worries brought her back to his lab at the ungodly hour of four in the morning.

He craned his neck to look over his shoulder and graced her with a warm smile. "Hey, babe.” When she stepped up to him, Tony remained sitting and allowed her to wrap her arms around him from behind. His tired, burning eyes briefly closed as she applied a kiss to his forehead from upside down. “Hey. How’s it coming along?”

Tony shrugged and pointed his chin towards the small test tube in the rack. He tried to cover up the underlying nervousness he felt in front of her. “Fourteen’s our lucky number... theoretically at least. Any which way I’ll have to inject him soon, his vitals are spiking too often and too high for me to wait any longer.”

As he stood up, Pepper noticed him sway a little on his feet. Tony prepared a syringe for the cervical nerve injection he was about to carry out with the help of Jarvis and Butterfingers, and she averted her eyes. Needles always made her feel squeamish, and witnessing Bruce getting injected in the back of his head was definitely not something she wanted to see.

“I… get us some tea in the meantime, okay? Be right back.”

Tony only nodded into her direction as he got into position and exchanged a few words with Jarvis, or Bruce; Pepper was not sure.

Upstairs, she switched on the electric kettle and prepared two mugs. With a hearty yawn, her gaze wandered out to the pulsating city of New York illuminating the skies. A small shiver ran down her back, and Pepper took turns in rubbing her feet against her calves against the cold kitchen floor to keep them warm.

She tried to occupy her mind by going through to do lists of business and non-business related tasks until the kettle stopped boiling with a small plop. With two filled mugs Pepper made her way back downstairs, hoping Tony had finished the gruesome injecting process. Indeed she found him sitting at the lab bench, his head on his arms. His body had given in to utter exhaustion as he snored into the silence. The empty syringe lay next to him, and Pepper gingerly pushed it aside with an elbow.

The redhead placed the mugs on the table, fetched a blanket from a nearby drawer and put it around his shoulders with a tender smile. Tony never even stirred. Her mug in between cold hands, Pepper took a few sips and relinquished the hot liquid as it ran down her throat. She contemplated going back upstairs to give sleep a try, but figured keeping an eye on Bruce could not hurt while Tony slept.

As she meandered along the expensive and functional new laboratory, her eyes gazed along the rows of machinery and high-tech equipment the inventor had installed; once more grateful for being at the receiving end of his skills and expertise. Pepper then came to stand in front of the tank, where Bruce’s still form floated behind the bulletproof glass.

His eyes were closed and, apart from the occasional air bubbles that rose from the respirator sealed over his nose and mouth, nothing moved. He showed no outward signs of having been subjected to a potential hazardous concentration of an unknown substance. With compassion, Pepper studied his freckled shoulders, the bony chest and his pale fingers, when the fingertips of his right hand twitched.

Perplexed she blinked; thinking her hazy brain must have played a joke on her, and looked more closely. When the fingers on Bruce’s other hand also started to move on their own accord, she stepped up, fascinated by the sudden change. Pepper moved closer, until the tip of her nose almost touched the thick glass cylinder, and tried to absorb every detail of the miraculous occurrence.

“Tony…”

Just as she had whispered out his name, Bruce’s movements stopped as abrupt as they started. With a tilt of her head, the young woman glimpsed over her shoulder to check whether she had woken Tony up. The blanket-covered heap continued to move with deep, regular breaths, and she was glad her premature action had not disturbed his rest.

When Pepper turned back around, she found herself staring right into Bruce Wayne’s open eyes.  
They were dark, with dilated pupils and, most scary of all, unblinking and unfocused.  
A high-pitched scream of fright escaped her lips and she all but jumped backwards.

The porcelain mug slipped from her hands and crashed down to the ground, tea splashing all over the concrete tiles. Tony jerked awake with a start, and got tangled up in the blanket around him. It nearly caused him to fall off his highchair in the process, and he managed to hold onto the edge of his desk only by luck and with a curse on his lips.

“Argh, fuck! Huh, what? WHAT? Pepper – what?!”

Tony followed her shaking index finger with his eyes. With a quick wipe over his face, he sprang up to walk towards her. “Uh…. that’s clearly not what it said in the manual…” Pepper cast him an incredulous stare. “Which 'manual'? I thought you’d developed the formula all by yourself?”  
  
Before he could answer her, more movement inside the tank erupted. Bruce’s eyes had closed again, but his body started to convulse with small bouts of cramps. “…erm, I did the final modifications to Maya’s recalculations. But it doesn’t say anywhere he’s supposed to be conscious during phase one… dammit… Jarvis?!”

With a sprint, Tony was back at his computer and started typing while he waited for his AI to come up with a plausible explanation. Pepper remained rooted to the spot and watched in agony how Bruce’s muscle spasms got heavier.

“Mister Wayne’s body is now actively trying to fight Extremis, Sir.”  
The serene voice of Jarvis resounded through the lab, as Tony did a once over on test number fourteen.  
“Already? Damn that’s... that's far too early! All the equations are correct - why the hell is he awake?”

Booming sounds made him look back up, and he and Pepper watched Bruce Wayne’s body thrash around the confines as it rebelled against the serum. “Shit, if he breaks the glass, we’re in trouble. Pep, honey – step back from there and come over here, will ya?”

Pepper inched backward to comply with his wish until Tony was able to take her hand. He subconsciously pulled her behind him to shield her body from the potential danger zone. Aghast she stared at him. “Didn’t you say this was bulletproof?”

Without taking his eyes from the scene, Tony groped for his cognition headset on the workbench single-handed and slipped it on. He had Godkiller on standby in less than forty seconds. “Sure is, but never got tested against a raging guy pumped up on Extremis. Listen -just in case- if I tell you to run, you run. No turning around, no questions asked. Okay?”

Too shaken to protest, she nodded. The tension in Tony’s voice and body language was palpable and she tried to calm herself and the thrumming adrenaline in her veins by breathing out.

“Sir, Mister Wayne is having a ventricular fibrillation.”  
At Jarvis’ stoic announcement Pepper wanted to dash forward, but Tony’s iron-like grip around her wrists held her in place.  
“NO! Tony, help him – please help him!”

The inventor ground his teeth as the woman in his arms fought against him with all her might. As he pulled her further into the back of the lab, he barked out orders at his AI. “Jarvis – reanimation mode for tank one! Defibrillation sensors up to three hundred joule. Monophasic repeat every ten seconds!”

Bruce’s body jerked from shock, and Pepper buried her face in Tony’s neck.

 


	18. Chapter 18

_Something was happening, deep inside of him._  
_Something that cut right through all of the previous pain and hurt he had been subjected to for weeks and months without end._  
_Something foreign was trying to take over his body._

_Those forces were trying to take over his mind as well, but there was yet some strength in him left to fight them. They would not get him alive. He could not grant them such satisfaction, ever. Frantic feelings mingled with an adrenaline rush that had his heart pumping blood so fast, it almost tore itself out of his chest. It was clawing at his skin from inside out; God, it was even worse than the torture he had endured._

_He felt raw, on the verge of losing his mind, but still held on numbly, because… he did not even know why anymore._  
_Keep holding on. That was what mattered. Don’t let them win._  
_But whatever it was that wanted to bring him down to his knees did not back down; far from it._

_He had to give up control over his body in order to save his mind, but the images started to rush past his inner eye so fast, it began to hurt, and he could not look away. When he feared to go crazy from its overload, he unwillingly started to falter. He could not endure any more, it was too much, he just wanted it to stop… until he finally, slowly, started to give in._

_Too weak to fight back anymore, he shuddered as a vague sensation started creeping up on the inside, leaving him raw and broken. Failure again, despite his tries. Shame and pain mingled, identical in a way, and he released the last bit of sanctum he had left -his mind, his precious, precious mind- as he tumbled deep into the unknown abyss of darkness._

_This was the end…_

***

The non-linear, erratic beeping of the heart rate monitor, which supervised Bruce’s vitals, started to flatline. With a curse on his lips, Tony dashed for the tank to repeat the defibrillation process manually by inducing the voltage and recalibrating the sensors. Pepper remained frozen to the spot, turned from the scene and sobbed into her hands.

“Jarvis – try a two-phase shock with a hundred and fifty joule! Come on, Bruce you stupid hard-ass, don’t’cha do this to me now!”

A crescendo of beeping and blinking sounds and lights erupted, as Tony Stark fought for the life of the Gothamite, whose body meanwhile had gone limp inside the tank. As shock wave by shock wave rippled through the water and caused Bruce to twitch heavily, the heart rate monitor eventually displayed a sequence of semi-regular blips.

“Reanimation process successful.”

Tony blinked in disbelief at Jarvis’ voice and examined the vitals on his screen.  
When he was sure his AI was correct, he blew his cheeks out and sunk into his chair, exhausted.  
“Status J? Are we through phase one yet?”

“Not quite, Sir. Mister Wayne’s body now has at least identified the Extremis virus. The process of accepting the implementation is going to take an undefined amount of time.”

From her spot near the stairway, Pepper wobbled and came to sit on the second to last step, where she clasped the stair-rail with one hand. She looked over towards a shaken Tony Stark, the shards of what used to be her tea mug on the floor, and felt cold and drained. She drew her knees up close to her torso and glimpsed up at her significant other.

“Guess this means we’re all sleeping in here for the rest of the night.”

With a confused look, as if he just realized she was still there, Tony peeled himself off his chair and went over to pull her to her feet and into an embrace. He rubbed her cold back as she sagged against him. Neither of them paid attention to the sweat-stained undersuit Tony wore, both too drained to care.

“Pajama parties at Stark Lab are always the best, in case you haven’t heard.”

He then took her hand and led her over to the couch. Pepper nestled under the blanket she had picked up from the floor after Tony’s nap. With her head on his shoulder, they stared off into the distance of the dimly illuminated tank, and Tony told Jarvis to turn down the lights as he, too, got a little more comfortable.

“Alert me on any change of condition Jarvis, good or bad.”

***

The final decision on whether Bruce would survive or not was a touch and go process that took up the rest of the night.

Around 7 AM, Jarvis informed his creator Bruce’s body had in fact accepted Extremis during phase one, and that the healing process would start to begin with phase two. Tony slipped off the couch without waking the woman in his arms, who had fallen asleep only twenty minutes earlier. By still wearing his cognition headset, he ordered Godkiller to remove Bruce from the tank and place him in a horizontal position within one of his StarkTech Infrared tubes that kept a steady temperature.

The Gotham billionaire was deeply caught up within the virus-induced coma that came with Extremis’ phase two, so Tony adjusted the tube to the most comfortable saturation of oxygen and had Bruce hooked up to an IV that ensured a proper distribution of the right nutrients. Afterward, Tony Stark stumbled upstairs and got a long-overdue shower to fight the bone-numbing weariness from the previous 24 hours.

He had Jarvis on constant supervision, should any change occur within the tube, glanced one last time over at the mop of hair on the couch, and decided not to wake her yet. Pepper stirred forty minutes later, with the blanket wrapped around her and one of Tony’s well-worn MIT hoodie sweaters balled up underneath her head. She inhaled the familiar scent and blearily looked around; only to find the tank empty and Tony gone. Alarmed, she sat up.

“Tony?”

Some shuffling from behind made her turn and look over the headrest as the man in question appeared from where he had been sitting in front of his mainframe. He looked showered and shaved and wore real clothes instead of his undersuit, but his eyes were still framed by dark circles. Stark leaned over to place a gentle kiss upon her head as Pepper cast him a worried glance upwards.

“What happened? Where is…”  
Tony held out a hand for her to grasp and pointed his head towards the back of his lab.  
“C’mon, have a look at our Sleeping Beauty over there.”

Pepper kept her hand intertwined with his and used her free fingers to comb through disheveled hair, as Tony led her over to an enormous, illuminated glass tube. In there was Bruce Wayne, tinged in the red hues of what she learned was Infrared exposure, and looked as if he indeed was only sleeping in peace. Much to her chagrin, he still seemed as frail and on the verge of death as before.

When she voiced her concerns, Tony smiled benignly and started to run his hands through her hair, loosely braiding a few strands. “Well, Extremis is no Super Soldier Serum for starters, but I think I can assure you my formula is working – right, J? What’s the verdict on his spinal injuries so far?”

“Indeed, Sir. Mister Wayne’s triple fractured spinal column has already started to re-grow osteochondral tissue. Extremis will work its way from the inside out, so any visible effects might take up to seven days.”

Pleased with his AI and himself, Tony Stark nodded along as he raised his arms over his head for a throughout body stretch. Pepper feasted her eyes on the small bit of skin that peeked at her from between wifebeater and waistband. He twitched as her nimble fingers raked across his stomach, and caught her loving gaze.  
  
”Did I ever tell you that your intelligence is a huge turn-on?” Tony’s lips parted in delight as his arms found their way around her waist. He pulled her close to his chest and trapped her palms in between their bodies. “Why Miss Potts, you've only wanted me because of my body before?” She wiped the cocksure smirk from his face with a sensuous kiss before she motioned for him to follow her into their private quarters.

After Pepper had freshened up and joined him in their king-size bed, their energy levels had reached a point at which they decided to get some real rest after the past few turbulent nights. With Tony spooning up behind her, Pepper soon fell asleep as well.

 


	19. Chapter 19

New York, March 2011

 

Alfred Pennyworth arrived in New York one late night at the end of March, upon receiving a call from Pepper Potts two days earlier. After he had shed some silent tears at the Manor, Alfred had packed two suitcases; one for himself, and one with several necessities and clothes belonging to the person he thought he would never see again.

Pepper welcomed the elder man at the penthouse area of Stark Tower, where a discreet assistant by the name of Johnson had brought him to. Alfred broke the their hug to hold the young woman at arm’s length and gravely looked at her smiling, emotional countenance. “Now I can believe everything is going to be alright, Miss Potts. When I received your call, I knew that things will turn out for the better.”

With a nod, she led him into the apartment and showed him his rooms. Pepper could feel Alfred was aching to get a look at the man he had cared for since his birth, even though he was far too polite to make demands of any kind. She tried to find the right words to prepare the butler for the upcoming sight.

“Alfred, you should know that Bruce has been… in a very bad state when Tony found him…” She stopped, unsure as to how to describe the current situation, when the elder man put up a brave façade. “I appreciate your consideration, Madam, but nothing could be worse than the images that have been plaguing me ever since his disappearance. All that matters is that he is alive - I can deal with anything else.”

The young woman nodded and figured, the best way to describe the situation was to have the genius under the roof do the explaining. “Let me show you the way to the laboratory. It’s bio-genetically locked, so you always would need either Tony or me to give you access to it…” They stepped up to the main entrance of the lab. After an identification process, the massive steel doors opened with a hissing sound.

The whole area lay dark and the lights were dimmed, so Pepper palmed a sensor to give them more illumination of the vast area. A deep, static hum was in the air. “It’s just down the stairs and to the right. Do you want me to stay here while…” She left the question in the open; unsure if the composed butler might need a moment to himself upon seeing Bruce inside the tube for the first time.

Since Tony had been called away on a mission earlier that day, Pepper figured she should stay at least in close proximity of his sanctum, even though Alfred hardly proposed a threat to any of the lab tech. “Your presence does not only have a calming effect on Mister Wayne’s spirit, but also on mine, Miss Potts. If it is not too much trouble to ask you…?”

Pepper shook her head with a smile and led the way across the lab. Their footsteps echoed off the metal floor and through the silence of the sterile facility. They rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of the massive glass cocoon that loomed a couple of feet above the ground, and which held Bruce’s bare form for them to examine from waist up.

She eyed their patient for any improvement on his outward appearance, but he still looked as pale and excruciatingly hollowed out as four days ago. While his open wounds had started to heal, the raw gashes that crisscrossed his arms and chest and the dark bruises on his face and body stood out painfully for everyone to see what Bruce Wayne must have had endured during captivity.

Alfred Pennyworth stoically took in the sight before him.  
“Where…. did you find him, Madam?”  
Pepper swallowed hard. Alfred’s nondescript tone betrayed any hurt, despair, or rage he most likely felt inside.

“We… Tony... has found him somewhere in India. I wasn’t told the exact circumstances of the rescue or…. anything prior to it.”  
Without warning, Alfred stepped forward and placed a shaky hand atop the warm tube; on a level with Bruce’s heart.  
The tube continued to hum with soft steady sounds.

Pepper followed Alfred’s lead and closed the distance he created, but kept her hands to herself. From the corner of her eyes, she saw a single tear run down Alfred’s weather-roughened skin as his fingers curled around the glass. The unspoken feel of failure and guilt heavily hung in the air, and Pepper inhaled.

“Alfred…”

He gave a stubborn shake of the head. When he spoke up, it was more of a whisper. “I should not have left him, even when he ordered me to. I should have known what he planned. I failed him again – with the very worst consequences I now have to live with.” Pepper extended a hand to squeezed the coated area of his shoulder several times.

“You couldn’t foresee what happened. No one could. But he is going to live, Alfred! Bruce is going to get well soon, you have to believe me.” Without taking his eyes off his silent protege behind the glass, Alfred let go of the tube and lowered his head in despair. “I am not a doctor, Miss Potts, but I used to be a soldier nearly a lifetime ago. I know fatal injuries when I see them.”

“Better start believing in miracles then, Alf. Ain’t no one’s going to die on _my_ watch!”  
The two of them swung around to the sound of the metallic voice that cut through the silence.  
Iron Man casually stood atop the metal stairway of the lab and looked down onto them.

“Tony!”

Pepper’s countenance lit up in surprise. Her quick scan of both his state of health and state of armor had become routine whenever he returned from combat. He seemed unscathed and relaxed after what had been a fast in-and-out mission down in South America. His faceplate whooshed open and he returned her smile.

“The one and only. I see we’re now complete. Goody. But, to come back to your original statement…” Here, the billionaire paused to clank down the stairs which thundered under his booted feet. He came to stand next to the butler who almost looked small next to the massive armor. “…yes, his injuries have in fact been considered fatal at some point. Guy’s had his spine broken like a pretzel several times, but hey: I fixed him up. Sure doesn’t look that way yet, but just give him a couple more days.”

Alfred pressed his lips together as he absorbed the information and stared back into the tube, a mixture between confusion and distress. “I am afraid I do not understand, Mister Stark…“ Tony waved him off and mouthed a kiss into the direction of a baffled Pepper before he turned his back on them and headed for the dismantle station.

“Ah, you don’t understand what it’s like working with geniuses. That’s what that is. Pepper’s gonna fill you in -won’t you, sweetheart- while I’m off for the showers. See ya!” He left it to the capable and tactful woman to see the shaken butler upstairs, offer him a strong drink, and a profound explanation on Extremis and what it was doing to Bruce.

It was way past midnight when the billionaire stepped out of the bathroom. Jarvis then informed him that Pepper had already settled down for the night, and that she was less than pleased with his flamboyant show-off stunt in front of their guest earlier on. Adrenaline from post-mission or not, the woman in his life made it clear how his behavior had been more than inappropriate.

Hungry, miffed at Pepper, but most of all angry for tricking himself out of a steamy lovemaking session to release his pent-up tension, Tony decided to raid the fridge for some leftover vegan pizza from lunch. He sauntered back to his lab, to sit with the only one, apart from Jarvis, who was not going to object to his presence late at night. While he sat and munched on the cold slices, Tony huffed around a full mouth.

“Geez buddy, you probably never ticked her off as much as I do. How'd you do it - this gentlemen stuff? Woman’s damn hard to understand sometimes... and that’s coming from a genius here.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, stood up to twist his chair around and crossed his arms upon the backrest.

“Owe you big time tho. Had my eyes opened. You'd’ve done everything for her, but I never knew what was missing until I almost lost her to you.” Tony swept a palm across his face, sniffed once, and glanced down to his sneakered feet. “Knowing you, I’m sure you’ll find your own Pepper out there as soon as you’re back up and running – though maybe you shouldn’t be spending all of your time sneaking around on rooftops in the future, Batster. I guess that surely would help with the dating…”

Looking back up, the billionaire saw the outline of a body reflecting in the glass tube. In one quick turn, he sprang up from his chair and swung around, feeling caught and ready to attack the foreign intruder. Alfred Pennyworth held up his palms in a surrendering gesture as he remained standing at the bottom of the staircase. He wore a long, burgundy velvet dressing gown and a pair of slippers.

“I am very sorry for my intruding, Mister Stark. I know there is no entry without permission, but the door was open, so I thought…”  
The butler cast a forlorn glance over at Bruce and pulled his robe tighter around him. Tony blew out his cheeks and sunk back down on his chair. “Yea, no prob. My second fuck up for the night. C’mon in…oh wait, you already are. Come closer then.”

His sarcastic behavior made Alfred seize him up before the butler did as he was told and came to stand in front of the tube. While Pennyworth regarded Bruce Wayne’s still form, Tony was uncertain how much of his one-sided conversation with Bruce the butler in fact had overheard. He cleared his throat and examined the calluses in his hands.

“Think Pepper told you what we’re doing. So don’t worry - he won’t be looking like a famine victim much longer. Extremis is repairing him from the inside out, so to speak.” Alfred shot Tony a benign look. “As unbelievable as the procedure may seem to me, I do understand that you have saved his life, for which I cannot thank you enough. I am in your debt, and so is Master Wayne.”

Tony’s ears started to burn. He had anticipated another earful of the elder man for his earlier rudeness, and the unexpected praise embarrassed him to no end. “I…. uh, well, yea, it’s nothing, okay? Pepper and I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him, so this kinda evens it out.”

Alfred gave a little shake of his head and continued to watch Bruce’s still form. The butler’s hands were now clasped behind his back and the hint of a smile ghosted across his countenance. “Oh, rest assured I will not let Master Wayne or anybody else know that beneath your rough exterior and big mouth beats a heart of gold, Master Anthony. Have a good night.”

When Alfred turned and walked out of the lab, he left a very flustered genius behind.

 


	20. Chapter 20

New York, April 2011  


After three more days, the Extremis virus started to show visible effects on Bruce’s healing process.

He had gained a good twenty pounds back, his skin did not look as ashen anymore, and his hair grew faster than usual. During that time, Tony let Jarvis calculate the exact dosages of IV fluids and nutrients Bruce’s body needed; he did not want to take any risks or unnecessary delays in the other man’s recuperation. Day six found Pepper, Alfred and Tony in front of the tube while Jarvis updated them.

“You will be pleased to learn all internal injuries have fully healed. Extremis now provides Mister Wayne with greatly accelerated healing, and an immensely-boosted immune system.” While Pepper clasped Alfred’s forearm and cast Tony a look full of gratefulness, the genius billionaire studied his AI’s complete report on the Stark Pad in his hand. He whistled in surprise.

“Wow, even his cardiovascular and respiratory systems got upgraded. Damn, this stuff’s good. Jarvis, when’s he going to wake up though?”

“My calculations estimate Mister Wayne is going to wake within the next 72 hours. The exact point of time can not be pinpointed however, as it is dependent on many biochemical factors.”

Pepper tore herself away from the scene as her mobile rang, and walked off to the far end of the lab to speak. When she came back, she heard bits and pieces about Tony wanting to transfer Bruce to the medical unit of the Tower. Alfred offered to prepare the room in question, with Bruce’s small selection of belongings, and Tony good-naturedly assured him there were lots of staff members who could take care of that.

The elder man insisted, and so the billionaire relented with a shrug. “Suit yourself. Maybe the less people know about the two of you vacationing here, the better.” He saw the butler off, but not without telling Jarvis to keep an eye on him on his way through the many floors and sections that was Stark Labs. Tony then twisted as a slender hand slung around his waist.  
  
“Tony? That was the construction company in Malibu. I’m sorry, but I need to fly over today.”  
  
The inventor looked at her and gave her a puzzled look. His brow furrowed in irritation at having to part ways with her because of some stupid architects. “Why now? Thought they agreed on sending us the updates via web cam. Not only are they slow as molasses, now they’re also ruining a perfectly fine evening. Dang it, let me give them a call, maybe…”

Pepper looked at him with a cryptic expression on her face and palmed his cheek.  
Her other hand found his and she intertwined their fingers. His eyes darted in between hers, confused.  
“They are done as of today. The mansion’s ready to be handed over. Happy belated birthday.”

With a smug smile, she pressed a kiss to the lovely “o” that appeared on his lips. In true fashion, Tony had even managed to forget his own birthday, two days earlier. While Pepper was glad it meant no extravaganza birthday bashes taking place, like two years ago when Iron Man and War Machine tore the mansion apart, she figured he very much deserved a special gift after all he had been through in the past year.

“Whoa there, wait a sec. Are you saying you planned this behind my back the whole time? And left me thinking I hired the slowest company in the world? Damn, Miss Potts!” Her smirk spoke volumes, and Tony slowly shook his head at her shiftiness. “Oh, they’ve been a real good bunch, very eager and compliant with all of your special wishes and requirements. But they need someone over to sign the necessary papers, take care of the legal stuff and…”

Tony interrupted her with a thorough kiss. When he remembered where they were, he released her and pointed his thumb at the tube.  
“I’d come with you, but I guess someone should be around when Sleeping Batsy here awakens.”  
Pepper stared at the tube with a pensive glint. She did not like to leave as well, but Malibu was a fixed appointment.

“Yeah, I think that’s probably for the best. If I’d known things turned out this way, I would’ve planned a little different, but…” She took Tony’s hand in hers again and pulled him towards the lab’s exit. “… there’s enough time left for me to show you your other surprise, though – in private.” With a low whistle at the glimpse of some red lace underneath Pepper’s business attire, Tony padded after her with a lewd grin.

After the billionaire had unwrapped his first present, Pepper left New York on a Stark Jet to Malibu much later, but true to her word.

She was excited to get a first look on what she hoped was going to be an exact replica of Tony’s previous mansion. He had wanted an extension and upgrade of his workshop, as well as some interior changes to what was going to be their master bedroom, their offices and kitchen facilities in the future; replacing the former playboy charm with a more domestic, cozy feel.

When she arrived in L.A. late that night, Pepper learned via phone that Bruce had not shown any signs of waking up so far. She consoled herself thinking she might even be back in New York before he did, and promised Tony to send some pictures of the new mansion by tomorrow. Before she wished her billionaire a good night, Pepper reprimanded him to not try and lure Alfred into an arcade dancing contest.

The excitement with which Tony told her Stark Tower was in possession of a DDR X2 since the very evening made her laugh. It was the latest arcade gaming machine on the market, and yet another eccentric birthday gift to Tony from their SI subsidiary Fujikawa in Tokyo. The billionaire did promise her not to hassle the butler, but Pepper heard the smirk in his voice nonetheless.

***

The first coherent thought which penetrated Bruce’s mind was the absence of pain. No dull pain, no burning pain; no pain at all.

Before the rest of his body was awake, he felt a difference. Something was off compared to the prior weeks, or months - he could not even remember how long the ordeal had been going on. Suspicious of the change he kept his eyes closed for several more intakes of breath. The intense smell of fresh cotton hit his nostrils, completely incomparable to the foul stenches he had gotten used to.

Confusion set in, and curiosity urged him on to open his eyes and check his surroundings. Before Bruce had made up his mind, a vaguely familiar voice spoke up and broke the silence. “Mister Wayne, my monitoring processes indicate a sudden rise in your cerebral activities. May I assume you are awake?” Bruce forced his eyelids open and immediately regretted the decision.

An unknown force of brightness pierced his retinas, and his hand shot up to shield them as he groaned in reply. The voice did not seem to mind his fleeting agony and carried on, undeterred. “You will find your sensorimotor cortex highly oversensitive. It will take a short while for your system to adapt to the sensory overload. Please be assured this is nothing serious.”

Bruce winced at the soft voice that got his eardrums ringing. He tried to speak, and felt stupid when nothing but a croak came out.

“…’ere am I?”

“200 Park Avenue, New York, Sir. The Stark Tower.”

“Stark To…?”

A dry coughing fit prevented him from rasping on. Bruce turned his head sideways and hacked into the pillow. “Easy there, Sir. There is a glass of water next to you on the left. The intravenous therapy unfortunately does not prevent the respiratory tract from going dry over a longer period.”

Bruce squinted once more against the light, before he finally managed to give his surroundings a first look. There was lots of white around him, and everything bordered on sterile. Since there was no other person in the room, he realized he was conversing with the AI of Tony Stark, Jarvis, if he remembered correctly. He shifted into a sitting position, saw the mentioned object on the nightstand, and leaned over to grasp the glass.

A small tug from his right arm got him aware of an IV needle stuck into his vein, and the young man frowned at it whilst he took the first couple of sips. The cool liquid ran down his sore throat and eased his discomfort a little. Once he felt more settled, Bruce tried to collect his jumbled thoughts and tiredly leaned back into the pillows. He had been saved, even though he did not know how or when.

What was more confusing than his rescue was the fact how nothing seemed to hurt when it should.  
A horrific thought crossed his mind, and Bruce lifted the blanket to peek underneath.  
The sight of both his legs deeply reassured him.

He ignored the fact he was unclothed in favor of wiggling his toes. His legs moved and cooperated without problems.  
With a huge sigh, the billionaire placed the blanket back over his body and frowned into the silence.  
The AI had not spoken up again, and Bruce did not even know where to begin.

“Jarvis...?”

“Yes, Mister Wayne?”

“... what happened?”

***

"Didn’t I tell you to inform me as soon as he wakes? Boy you’re getting sloppy there, J.”

Tony marched through the long corridor with long, energetic strides. He had half a doughnut clamped between his lips as he slipped into a white lab coat. He did not need to wear it, since those were his facilities, and he was the only person allowed to be around at the moment anyhow, but Tony had always had a penchant for dramatic appearances. Besides, he wanted to show off to Bruce a little.

“Quite so, Sir. However, I have been occupied with updating Mister Wayne on most of the events from the past few months. Sir had many questions that required me to do a lot of explaining before I could get around to notifying you. Shall I inform Mister Pennyworth as well now, while I’m at it?”

Tony grumbled around a full mouth as he went through the motions of unlocking the many security hatches one by one, palming each identification sensor with growing impatience. “Yeah, figured he would. And no, don’t inform Alf yet. Do that once I’m done getting my earful from the Batguy.” The AI processed this information for a nanosecond before he spoke up again, an undertone close to curiosity lingering in his electronic voice.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Sir. Why would Mister Wayne be displeased with the outcome of the situation? His highly improved state of health does not warrant any kind of complaint.” As the last airlock opened in front of Tony with a hiss, the billionaire swallowed the rest of his doughnut in one bite and shrugged at his disembodied confidant.

“Ask me again later when I know how Bruce feels about being a proverbial lab rat.”

A forced, magnificent smile on his face, Tony then opened the door to the private sickbay in one swift motion. His eyes immediately rested upon the man who sat up in his bed, arms crossed in front of his bare chest, and looked out of the window. Tony did not fail to notice Bruce had taken the IV out of his vein and thrown it aside onto the bedside table.

“Good day. I heard there were some complaints about the catering of this joint?”

The other billionaire turned his head to look at him, blinked, and rested dark eyes on him without saying a word. Tony shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his lab coat and bounced a little on his heels. He cleared his throat just as Bruce broke eye contact. His mouth was almost completely hidden behind a full beard, and his hair hung in a mess over his forehead.

“Jarvis told me what you’ve done. About Extremis.”

When further words eluded him, Bruce frowned and stared down onto the blanket. Tony walked around and snatched the StarkPad from where it was fixated on the side of the bed. He glimpsed at the statistics which displayed Bruce’s vitals from the past twenty-four hours, glad for the distraction it provided. As he nodded to himself upon examining the readouts, Tony mumbled along.

“Uh yeah, well, consider us even? An eye for an eye, an ass for an ass, so to speak?”

Bruce’s head shot up, and he eyed Tony with an aggressive glint in his eyes. The shorter man shuffled his feet on the linoleum. He meanwhile regretted his lab coat; it was a good thing he had decided against wearing doctor’s glasses. Bruce continued to growl at him. “That doesn’t really cut it, seeing I didn’t use _your_ ass as a biochemical test center!”

Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest and scrunched up his face. “Oh, don't gimme that. If _you_ hadn’t felt the need to take a hike without telling anybody and gotten your butt kicked beyond belief, then _I_ wouldn’t even have needed to play Frankenstein!” More silence ensued. Tony huffed and decided to try another strategy. His cheeky wisecracks never sat well with Bruce’s buzzkill attitude, so he opted for firm optimism.

“Anyhoo, I think you’ll be glad to hear there’s no permanent damage to any of your somatic functions. Meaning there’s no need for you to laze around in bed any longer.” As Tony snapped the pad shut with a self-satisfied nod, Jarvis intervened. “Mister Wayne might experience unknown feelings of weakness within the next couple of days. While bones, organs, and tendons are healed, the muscles have not been used in a while. They will respond to their regular range of motion very soon, but a large-scale soreness is to be expected, Sirs.”

Tony waved his AI off and gave Bruce an appeasing grin. “Yeah well, you’ll have enough time to build them guns once more; we’ve got our own gym around here of course.” The other billionaire raised an eyebrow as disdain curled around the edges of his beard-covered mouth. “First thing on my mind indeed. And most definitely while going full commando...” He made a vague gesture across the blanket. Tony shrugged.

“Oh yea, that. You traveled kinda light, so your butler brought some of your stuff around.” Bruce’s face darkened further at the mention of Alfred. Tony continued without a hitch. “Let’s have him over, too - he needs to see you back to being as good as new.” While the Gothamite was relieved to hear his butler had been spared by Bane’s wrath, he figured he himself would receive Alfred’s wrath soon enough.  
  
“He’s here? Since when? Has anybody…?”

The inventor waved him off and ordered Jarvis to finally inform the elder man before he leaned against the windowsill and crossed his ankles. “Couple’a days. He and Pepper made sure to cover for you. Told the world you’re in Europe, gettin' over your breakup with lots of hot Italian models and the like. You... sound like you have a good time.”

At that bit of information, Bruce fell silent again. Tony took the opportunity to tell him how Jarvis kept an eye on Gotham’s newspapers, and no revealing story about Bruce Wayne as the notorious Batman had made the rounds. In fact, the city seemed to be caught up in a deadlock situation for months. The situation was caused by the terrorist who had almost managed to end the life of the Batman.

It was uncertain whether Bane knew about the pit, or if he had decided Bruce Wayne’s fate did not matter anymore, anyhow.

When Alfred was on his way to join them at the medical unit, Bruce asked Tony to leave him alone before the butler would arrive. He wanted their most likely awkward reunion to pass without a nosy bystander, and get hold of a decent pair of boxers beforehand. The AI had informed him on the location of his belongings, and while Bruce felt okay in horizontal, he did not want Tony to see him staggering around once he left the bed for the first time in what was probably weeks.

The other billionaire granted him his wish with little to no effort, and when the door fell shut, Bruce slung back the covers. A pale, thin body greeted him; almost unrecognizable to what he was accustomed to seeing in the mirror. Jarvis had told him about his fatal state of emaciation, weighing only 120 pounds right after his rescue, but Bruce was still repelled by the present sight of his physique, which put him in at a meager 140 pounds despite Extremis’ healing abilities. Inactivity had done him in and caused severe atrophy of the muscles all over his body.

When Bruce had to grasp the edge of the bed to keep his wobbling legs from collapsing under the foreign strain, he was glad no one except Jarvis was around to witness his sad, first attempts. He panted from the small victory of slipping on a pair of boxer shorts and conquering the room and braced himself against the sink in the small, adjacent bathroom. Bruce raised his head and looked at the stranger who stared back.

His first instinct was to laugh out loud at the grotesque face that greeted him.

A face much too thin stared back; full of disheveled ginger beard and topped by a mop of unkempt, long hair. He mustered himself with dulled eyes before he cast them downward and hung his head low. Without warning, a seething burst of aggression rose from the bottom of his soul to wash over him, and with gritted teeth his hands gripped the rim tighter and tighter until he heard a loud, cracking sound.

With a start, Bruce snapped out of his state of mind and stared at the large crack within the solid white enamel sink he had created from his hands all the way down to the drain. Bewildered he looked at his reflection once more. His arms trembled as he bent forward and his eyes darted across features that seemed downright unfamiliar to him.

“Who are you?”  
With a slow shake of the head, the strange man in the mirror frowned back at him.  
“Someone who has been terribly missed, Master Wayne.”

Right behind him in the doorway stood Alfred Pennyworth, dressed in a dark knitted sweater and watched the half-naked, fragile form of his protégé with solemn, brimming eyes. He placed the pile of clothes aside to steady the young man before the tremors in his legs got too severe to balance out. For a while Bruce Wayne said nothing and only closed his eyes.   
  
After a moment, his fingers curled around Alfred’s arm.

 


	21. Chapter 21

„Pep? Honey? You there?“

„Tony! Do you have… do you _know_ what time it is?“

“No. But the sun’s up here already, so morning sounds about right.”

Pepper Potts stifled a yawn and sat up a little straighter in bed at her condo in Paradise Cove. She had been obliged to stay in Malibu for the past two days, and work at SI Headquarters had engulfed her enough to almost forget about the peculiar situation back at the Tower. With the help of Tony and Jarvis, she had been kept updated on most of the progress of Bruce’s recent recovery.

“Well Captain Obvious, it’s 3:30 here in Malibu! What’s wrong?”

After she had left for California, Pepper could not help but to wonder what protocol would say about a situation like the present. A situation, in which her ex-fiancé who had barely escaped death, resided at her boyfriend’s abode while she was somewhere else. She figured the situation was far more ridiculous and ludicrous than any bad sitcom on TV might come up with. She also was convinced once the initial shock had settled, it was bound to get more awkward by the minute.  

What made things even worse was the fact that so far, Pepper herself had not been able to speak with Bruce at all. It was either her working, him resting to regain his strength, or Tony having him cooped up in the lab, running some tests in order to monitor the first week post-Extremis. The young woman figured Bruce did not fare too well under the situation, and Alfred certainly could only do so much.

“…hello? Babe? Have you fallen asleep on me again?” Tony's baritone voice shook her from a slight daze, and Pepper scowled into the night. “Don’t ‘babe’ me, Stark. You know, I have a conf tomorr… no, actually _today_ at 6:30 - so please: Let this be important.” She lay on her back, snuggled back under the covers and listened to him with eyes closed.

“Thing is – I dunno if I can handle this on my own here, Pep. This is getting too… uh,… maudlin for me. Seriously. When are you gonna be back?”

She palmed her forehead before she switched the mobile to her other ear. Before her inner eye, Pepper already saw the peaceful rest of the night sail out of the window. “ _Maudlin?_ What do you mean... maudlin? Are you trying to tell me Bruce Wayne is crying on your shoulder every day and night? Honey, either you are delusional, drunk, or something in your Extremis formula has indeed gone terribly wrong.”

She almost heard the Stark-ish pout through the line as his tone took on a whining edge.

“Haha. Funny. If anything, Extremis has sucked out all of the meager emotions he had out of the guy - zap, just like that. He’s gonna pull his jaw muscles once he attempts to smile, and I’m running out of ideas trying to get him to lighten up. Hell, all he does is sit around and stare at the wall. He’s like a… - like a freaking zombie brooding all over the Tower, and I honestly fear it’s contagious. Please, Pep, come home and take care of it.”

A bittersweet smile wormed its way on her lips. “You have to understand it’s a rough time for him, Tony. Think about it – he’s been nearly tortured to death, only to wake up at your place after having been injected with an unknown formula and feeling like a lab experiment. Plus, without any news or knowing what is going on in Gotham, Bruce feels like he has nowhere to go to at the moment…”

She stopped as a sudden idea struck her. “…why don’t you get him on a jet and send him over here? The change in climate and some sun might do wonders for his psyche. Maybe Bruce needs another familiar face around, apart from Alfred, and since I…”

Tony’s harsh laugh interrupted her, almost the second Pepper Potts realized her crucial mistake. “Yeah, whoop-de-do! Thanks, but no, thanks. I may not be the jealous type, but he _is_ your ex-fiancé after all. And now that he’s Mister Superhuman Strength and pulling off this dark-lonesome-me-act, I’d rather not take any risks.” Pepper was a little more awake and her eyes snapped open in the darkness.

“Wait a moment. Are you saying that I’m inclined to…?”  
  
“I dunno, Pep. _Are_ _you?”_

Mutual silence followed his fierce retort. He sniffed into the receiver as he got his temper back under control. If the situation was different, and not at nearly 4 in the morning, Pepper would have been touched by how very much Tony _was_ jealous after all. Maybe he had not even realized how much until the very moment. Before she could comment on the atrociousness that was his mistrust towards her, Tony cleared his throat.

“Okay, you know what? Never mind. Forget what I’ve said. What I also wanted to let you know is that I got a call from Eyepatch and his gang, meaning I need to get going tonight. Something came up in the Canadian woods -Bigfoot maybe- and apparently all the Avengers are required to clock in. Guess I’ll have Jarvis hook Sir Mope-A-Lot here up with a shitload of Film Noir, Kleenex, some big box of Lithium, and hope for the best.”

“Tony...”  
She opened her mouth, not knowing what to say, so Pepper said the easiest thing on her mind.  
“…fly safe, you hear? And be careful; I don’t want to come home to you being a bloody mess.”

His familiar chuckle was comforting, and glossed over the fact neither of them knew how to voice their true feelings for the other. “Technically I’m not home at the moment, _you_ are. I’ll let you know how long it’s gonna take - and man, this better be a quick in-and-out; I wanna see the mansion with you.” She nodded to herself. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed. And once you’re back you’ll get the grand tour, I promise.”

“The way you say that makes me kinda horny.”  
Pepper rolled her eyes and flipped onto her left side. Despite his ever-present crudity she was smirking.  
“There’s basically nothing that won’t. You’re impossible. Bye.”  
  
His grin was almost visible through the receiver.  
“Impossibly good in bed is what you wanted to say. Bye, Potts, talk to ya later.”  
The line went dead and Pepper threw her phone aside with an exasperated groan.

***

“ _I dunno Pep. Are you?”_

Tony’s words played in her ear for the rest of Friday. While Pepper made sure to pay attention to the conference close at hand, she could not help but to chew over over his insinuation. Part of her was irritated that Tony Stark, ex-playboy and notorious womanizer, felt the need to reprimand her when it came to being faithful.

Around the first coffee break, Pepper’s temper had cooled off enough for her to focus on her presentation. At lunch she had made a decision, and when the end of the working day rolled around, she drove home in her Audi S7 Sportback on the California State Route 14 and made use of her stationary car phone.

“Good evening Miss Potts, what can I do for you?”  
She took her foot a little off the accelerator and shifted more comfortable into her seat.  
“Jarvis, hi… can you put me through to one of our guests please?”

After a short while, the AI was back, his comforting voice echoing through the speaker phones of her limousine. “I was able to get one of the sirs on the line, Miss Potts. Is there anything else?” Pepper gnawed on her bottom lip and re-gripped the leather-coated steering wheel. She wanted to know whether Bruce or Alfred would speak to her, but had to wait and hear.

“No, okay, thank you Jarvis. Oh wait - any news from Tony he forgot to mention to me?”

For a moment, she felt a twinge of embarrassment at having forgotten to ask firsthand, but the AI was not programmed to detect such subliminal deviations. “Mister Stark has not left any new messages since his departure, twelve hours ago. I am assisting him across the Canadian boarder. An ending of the mission is incalculable at the moment.”

Pepper voiced her thanks, told Jarvis to keep on taking good care of Tony and waited through the dial tone until someone picked up. “Good evening Miss Potts. I hope you are doing well in California?” She smiled as the British voice of Jarvis got replaced with the comparable accent of the elderly butler. “Good evening Alfred. I guess I am, regarding the circumstances. I’m sorry for my sudden absence. I know you must find the whole scenario highly peculiar.”

“Oh, do not worry about us, Madam. We are faring well, despite everything, and the current domicile is quite decent indeed. What can I do for you?” Pepper narrowed her eyes as a motorbike sped past her at high velocity. “While I’m glad to hear, I’ve come to learn there’s a certain melancholia settling in with our… patient.” She stopped.

Despite the secured lines of any phone connection from or to Stark Tower, everyone remained cautious about mentioning the Gotham guests more than necessary. Alfred stayed quiet for a moment too long, and Pepper figured Tony had been right. “Sadly yes, Miss Potts. The quite astonishing artificial intelligence system keeps trying the best way it can, but still - progress is slow.”

Pepper checked the rear-view mirror before she performed a passing maneuver. She then decided to play her trump card; Tony’s supposedly non-existent jealousy be damned. “Which is why I wanted to invite both of you to Malibu. Weather conditions and change of scenery could be effective. I can easily have a jet ready by tomorrow, just tell me when.”

The butler told her to pass her offer on, but declined for himself as he felt comfortable at the Tower. The two of them hung up to each other, and it must have been strictly due to Alfred’s powers of persuasion that Pepper received the request for aerial transportation only three hours later.

 


	22. Chapter 22

On the following Saturday morning at 6AM, one of Stark Industries’ many jets took off from a private airfield outside of Manhattan.

It landed on an equally private tarmac four hours later, to the sight of where Pepper Potts leaned against her silver Audi. She wore pair of sunglasses, an easily pinned up-do, and her favorite Burberry trench coat as she watched the luxury aircraft roll to a stop. The jet bridge got placed into position, and her heart began to hammer in her chest. It would be the first time she saw Bruce awake since he had been brought in half-dead.

The person who exited the plane with slow, deliberate steps was not whom she had been prepared for, however.

He wore a baseball cap pulled so deep down, Pepper could not see his face at first. The only thing visible was long brown hair welling out from underneath. As he stepped down the gangway, hunched over with both hands in the pockets of an oversized jacket, she could make out more details. Bruce still looked far too thin. While not underweight anymore he did not seem to have picked up an appetite so far.  
  
Combined with an untrimmed, long beard he looked strange and unfamiliar. Even though the temperatures were already well in the sixties, Pepper shivered as the man walked over into her direction. He did not make eye contact until he came to a halt a few steps in front of her. Pepper pushed her sunglasses upon her head and swallowed. “Bruce… welcome to Malibu...”

The rest of her sentence got cut short in a bone-crushing hug as the billionaire slung his arms around her. Taken by surprise, Pepper stumbled backwards and almost bumped into the car door before she caught herself. Her arms went up to wrap themselves around his frail form. As unexpected and spontaneous as the emotional bout had come, Bruce was quick to pull back and stare at his feet again.

“I wasn’t sure whether I should come.”  
His voice was the only constant Pepper recognized. Once more she reached out to give his arm a little squeeze.  
“I’m glad you did.”

When the Cessna was moved into one of the hangars for refueling and maintenance, she pointed at the car behind.  
“Come on, get in. Let me show you the new mansion.”  
Since Bruce had not brought any luggage along, he simply walked around to the passenger side.

Their drive to Point Dume was a silent one, as Bruce just stared ahead from underneath his cap. Pepper wondered if small talk was appreciated, and moreover if bringing him around had been such a good idea. His quiet voice then cut through the silence and all but made her jump in her seat. “Has it been completely rebuilt then? The... beach house?”

She glanced at him, but Bruce fumbled with the zipper of his jacket and avoided eye contact. She told him a forced, cheerful story of how much a struggle it had been with some sub service companies and how much had gone awry. “At least it's been done faster than the Manor.” When she turned off the final exit towards the driveway of Stark mansion, Pepper could not help but to remember how bitterly Bruce himself had lost everything over a year ago.

“Well, it is much smaller than the Manor. And we had a more pressing commitment to pursue, so it’s been on the back burner for the past months.”

Her comment was not meant to create unnecessary drama, but his jaw was set tight, once it had left her mouth. No sooner that she had put the Audi in parking position, Bruce slammed the passenger’s door open, got out and strode towards the main entrance. Pepper's Jimmy Choo’s clacked on concrete underground as she swung around, locked the limousine with a blip, and caught up with him at the door.

An eerie reminiscence crept up on her as she remembered the day he tried to warn her and Tony on the very doorstep.

“Just a second, the security systems have been modified.” Bruce glumly stepped aside and watched her swipe a palm across a sensor device. The scanners flashed green as the name “Pepper Potts” popped up on the screen and the door opened without a hitch. Despite his grim attitude Bruce went and held the door open for her. Once inside, she laid rueful eyes on him.

“About what I just said - I’m sorry; I should’ve worded it different… I just wanted to say how important it was that we did what mattered most…”

He interrupted her with a harsh laugh and walked away towards the expressive panorama window front. Most designer furnishings inside the mansion were already finished or delivered, though they still lacked a personal note. “I’ve apparently become nothing but a worrisome burden to everyone. How lovely.” Pepper bit her lip. There it was again, that well-known pattern of guilt rearing its ugly head; darker, heavier, and more encompassing than she had ever witnessed before.

“Okay… how about I’ll show you the terrace? We can have a seat outside, it’ll be warm enough in the sun.”

While he did not refuse, the billionaire did not seem too enthused either. Pepper Potts fought hard against her growing frustration and got them settled in two deckchairs. She tugged the belt of her trench coat open and unbuttoned it for more comfort. When Bruce also slid out of his oversized jacket a couple of minutes later, it felt like a small victory to her.

The long-time personal assistant genetics kicked into action at that point, and Pepper rose once more, leaving Bruce to get two glasses of iced tea and some previously bought bagels. When she reappeared on the veranda, he had also ditched the cap and stared out at the vastness of the ocean, arms slung around himself. Bruce’s hair was longer than ever and rumpled from wearing a hat for the past couple of hours.  
  
Pepper placed the small tray aside before she sat down. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten breakfast earlier on, so I brought something along...” her voice trailed off as no reaction followed. Pepper cleared her throat and pressed on in a casual voice “…but if you don’t like bagels then we can order something else. It’ll be no problem, really, just tell me what you’re in the mood for and we can have it delivered…”

Enraged, Bruce sprang up from his chair.  
“God, Pepper - STOP IT! What the hell are you doing here?”  
He shook his head and stormed off, brown locks swinging around his neck.

She watched as he almost drove his palms down on the white, massive stone balustrade, but something made him pull back the last second. Instead, he balled them into tight fists and lowered them at his sides. Pepper stared at his back in stunned silence. Her own frustration spilled over and she also rose, arms akimbo.

“Stop what, Bruce? Stop caring about you after all you’ve been through? After you decided to not stick to our agreement, and instead chose to deceive not only Alfred but also Tony and me? You were deliberately getting yourself into danger, you were this close…” She held up her thumb and index finger to form a two-inch gap. “… to dying somewhere in India - and now you’re outraged that someone cares? Honestly, Bruce, could you possibly get _any more obtuse?”_

At the last words, he swung around and stared at her with clenched teeth. His temper gained the upper hand, and he slammed one of his still balled fists into the balustrade next to him. Pepper winced at the dull sound and stared in utter bewilderment at the visible indention he had left in the wall. Her eyes darted back to him, and she wondered whether to call an ambulance, as Bruce's forceful action had most likely shattered several bones in his hand.

When his initial anger had oozed out, the Gothamite fought hard for self-control and took a couple of deep breaths. “I certainly didn’t need any more blood on my hands - or more casualties on my conscience. And maybe… it would’ve been better if any of you didn’t go to all length for me.”

A sickening feeling of dread pooled in Pepper’s stomach at his quiet words, and she closed her eyes. When she reopened them, Bruce had turned his back on her and glanced out into the ocean. She found the courage to walk up to him, sensing he would not do her any harm. Pepper leaned against the balustrade and studied his full-bearded profile.

“Never say such a thing again, Bruce. I beg you. I know it was hell where you were, but... it was hell here, too.”

Her voice held so much despair, that it got through his darkened mind. Bruce lowered his head and inspected his fist. His eyes searched and found hers for the first time since their reunion, and with all of his previous aggression evaporated, Pepper saw resignation swirl within them as he held out his hand for her to examine. Astonished she realized there was no blood, no abrasions, nothing. He gave a bitter smile.

“See? I have become a monster from inside out, even without the suit.”  
Without another word, Pepper reached out and enclosed his large palm within hers.  
She stepped closer until Bruce slid his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace.

Their clasped hands were caught in an awkward angle between their chests as they stood, motionless for what seemed like an eternity, and listened to the waves crashing upon the cliff coast below. Pepper tried to offer whatever silent comfort she would be able to give him until Bruce shifted and let go of her shoulder. He raised his hand with her fingers clutched around, and pressed a chaste kiss upon her knuckles.

His beard tickled her skin, and Pepper could not help but giggle. The innocent sound brought the first ghost of a smile upon Bruce’s face.  
“I should probably shave sometime soon; got it.”  
The rest of the day was spent outside on the spacious patio, where Bruce dozed off in the sun after a while.

Pepper fetched her Ultrabook, helped herself to a huge mug of caffè latte from the newly installed Jura coffee machine, and kept him some quiet company. She busied herself leisurely browsing the internet for some items for the mansion that would give a more personal touch to the sparse rooms. She blamed the unusual amount of sleep Bruce seemed to need on Extremis, which was still wreaking havoc on his weak organism.

Around noon he woke up feeling rested but hungry, much to Pepper’s joy, so she ordered lunch right after Bruce had finished off the remaining bagels. They went around the mansion afterward, and when they came to stand in front of the familiar steps downstairs to Tony’s workshop, Pepper hesitated. Bruce cast a questioning look at her and pointed his chin at the spiral staircase.  
  
“His man cave I take it?”  
Pepper nodded, brushed at her bangs with the back of her hand and wet her lips.  
“Yes. Tony hasn’t been here yet - I suppose since there’s nothing top-secret lying around, so he might be alright with us having a look.”

Bruce indicated for her to lead the way. “Since I had to show him mine, I’d say it’s only fair.” His curiosity piqued, the Gotham billionaire followed her down the marble stairs. The muscles in his legs started to cramp on the very last few steps, so he had to use the banister to steady himself. Much to his luck, Pepper did not notice his brief bout of discomfort.

The redhead had not been at the shop since her arrival and took in the new but oh-so-familiar looking bullet-proof glass doors. Even the security code display panel and the dark interior that lay behind, tinged in faint blue colors were just as she remembered it. Entering the workshop was impossible, however; all old codes remained invalid until Tony reprogrammed them, together with Jarvis.

She was able to make out outlines of what was going to be the gallery where the suits used to be lined up in their designated hall of fame. Upon the still empty spaces she thought about all of Tony’s armors that were lost to the bottom of the sea; from Mark I which had saved his life in Afghanistan, to Mark VII which had assisted him in the crucial battle against the Chitauri.

Thoughts of his precious sports cars crossed her mind; especially the Hot Rod from his father that Tony used to tinker upon. They all remained nothing but a memory, and Pepper could not help but wonder whether her billionaire secretly mourned the loss as much as she did.

“Impressive. Very nice.” Bruce’s voice next to her ear shook her out of her saddened reverie. She looked up and watched him muster the space behind the sealed window front with interest. “Kind of sparse, though...yet. He’s no minimalist, so I reckon this will look completely different once he’s moved in.” Half laughing she agreed, and they made their way back upstairs.

***  
  
When Bruce wanted to leave and get back to the Tower in the evening, Pepper was eager to accompany him. Seeing that she would not be needed in Malibu during the weekend, she informed HQ about working from New York for the upcoming weeks. An uneventful flight on the private jet later, they checked into the Tower around 11.  
  
After Bruce had bid her goodnight, Pepper took a brief shower, brushed her teeth and mustered up the courage to call her boyfriend.

When Jarvis put her through to him, Tony's voice resounded in her ear, audibly tired and beat.  
“Sweetheart! What a sight for sore eyes…. and ears. I’m coming home, shouldn’t be too long. How was your day?”  
“Most definitely not as exhausting as yours. How was the mission?”

After she slipped out of her woolen socks and got under the covers, Pepper listened to him telling her about a search-and-rescue mission for two logging factories that had gotten buried by an avalanche deep inside the Canadian woods. Despite the heavy rainfalls, the Avengers had managed to save most of the lumberjacks’ lives from underneath wet soil and overturned tree trunks, and managed to ward off a national catastrophe.

“Ugh, I definitely had enough rain for the upcoming months. I’m just about to fly over to the mansion now, so let’s soak up some sun on the patio tomorrow. How bout that?” Pepper bit her bottom lip hard; she had to act fast before things would get far more complicated than she had anticipated. “Oh, erm, no, actually I’m back in New York as of tonight… I’ve flown back this evening after…. showing Bruce the mansion.”

A huge, all-compassing silence ensued on the other end.  
”…Tony? Hello?”  
She called his name again, but to no avail.

Pepper took her phone off her ear to check whether the connection had been cut, but the screen continued to flash Tony’s picture, indicating he was still on the other line. Quick to press the device back to her ear, she called his name a third time, even more urgent. When his voice was back with her, it sounded different than mere moments ago.

“He’s always gonna be first, eh? First one to be with you, first one you wanna marry, first one to see the mansion - _my_ mansion, mind you- goddammit, Pep, what the hell! Why?!” Tony had not sounded as bitter, ever since their big falling out after Miami. Pepper knew she could not blame him for it that time; she had been playing for high stakes.

“I can understand you’re angry, Tony. You might even have every right to be; but let me tell you the reasons behind my decision. Bruce is not the same man I’ve come to know…” He sneered into her ear with a vicious laugh. "Golly. How bout me - am _I_ the same man you’ve come to know? NO! And why’s that? Cause _I_ was forced to turn my life around, too! Quite brutally so, if you look at my chest!”

Pepper closed her eyes and absorbed the rage Tony unleashed upon her. It was the only thing to do before she could try to make him understand how much she cared for him. On the other end, the billionaire had just warmed up. "And yeah, he is a good guy, and didn’t deserve any of the shit they’ve put him through, and blah blah blah, but that doesn’t mean you have to move heaven and earth for him!”

With the need to justify her actions, Pepper attempted to get her fair share in through his rather one-sided conversation. "Tony, listen, we’ve talked about this before. Maybe you don’t know anything about his old demons, which is fine, because you don’t have to, and it’s none of your business, but you do know about his current depression -told me so yourself- after the near-death experience and the torture he had to…”

However, she found Tony did not want to listen, and he most definitely did not want her to talk. "Uh-uh, baby, no. You talked and I listened. Now _you_ listen to _me_ : I’ve been nothing but faithful since you’re back in my life, and I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve, right?”

"Tony, I _know_   that…”  
  
"Then why isn’t that enough for you, huh?! _Why am I goddamn not enough for you?”_  
  
Pepper got out of their bed and walked around the spacious bedroom to distribute her growing anxiety.  
  
"What?! What does that have to do with anything? You _are_ enough for me! Why wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, really? Then why the hell are you so eager to spend so much time with him, all alone? I really wanna trust you, Pepper, but right now you’re making this fuckin’ hard.” Pepper shivered, despite the warmth in the room, and paused her pacing to sink back down onto the edge of the mattress. “Oh god, Tony… let’s not do this right now. Not on the phone, not with you in the suit, and not like this. Please, come home and talk to me in person before we make a huge mistake here.”

He inhaled sharply, to fire another round of bitter, hurting words into her direction, but paused upon hearing the desperate tone of her voice. Instead, he exhaled loudly for her to hear. “I just… I have to be sure, Pep. Don’t make me stand aside and watch him take you away from me again. I… I can’t go through that another time in my life, I just… can’t.”

Before she had the chance to reply to his devastation, Tony's voice switched into a strong, clipped tone. He told her he would be at the Tower in approximately ninety minutes and hung up on her without so much of an actual goodbye. Pepper sat lost in thought and listened to the busy tone for a few seconds before she mechanically ended the call.

The words “You can be sure, because I love you” had been on her lips, but Pepper Potts clamped her mouth shut, let herself fall backward and stared at the ceiling.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text-heavy chapter ahead.

In a bathroom further down the hall, Bruce Wayne stood in front of the sink, clad in a pair of boxer briefs, and ran an electric hair trimmer across his ginger beard for the umpteenth time. Since his quarters were not in possession of any real razor blades for whatever reason, he was left with a slight stubble Bruce figured he could live with.

The Gotham billionaire then took the small machine into his hands and started to cut off strand by strand of his too long hair. The result of his inept doings looked even worse than before, however, so without hesitation he shaved most of it off until he was left with a clean, crisp buzz cut. After he had gotten rid of a pound of hair, Bruce took a shower and sat, wrapped up in a towel, on the edge of the bed ten minutes later.

He ran a hand over the smooth surface on his head and stared out of the window. Depression and darkness were back with him, once his body stopped being busy. Bruce figured he would not be able to sleep sometime soon, despite Extremis’ sluggishness that accompanied him everywhere these days. All of a sudden, he longed for the feel and the sounds of the night. He pressed the intercom next to his bed.

“Yes Mister Wayne, what can I do for you?”  
Jarvis’ artificial voice sounded chipper as usual, and Bruce hesitated for a second.  
“Yes, well, actually… is there a way to get some air outside of the Tower - but upstairs, on the roof? Something like a terrace?”

After the AI had given him directions for a so-called party-deck, Bruce grabbed a pair of boxers, jeans and a dark sweater, slipped into some sneakers he did not even remember to own, and found the aforementioned section minutes later. The spacious lounging area was empty and dark apart from some background illumination of a generous bar to his right side.

The billionaire stood in front of the large window front for a moment and looked across Hudson River and the illuminated Empire State Building. His astute eyes then found a door to the left that led him outside onto a semi-circular walkway. With no seating accommodation around, he sauntered along the walkway back and forth, before he stopped right in the middle between two large plant tubs.

Displeased, Bruce leaned over the glass balustrade and stared out into the night. To his right was another, higher elevated platform, too small for a helicopter, and Bruce figured it had something to do with Iron Man and his gadgets. Sighing to no one in particular he stubbed sneakered feet against the ground and closed his eyes; imagining his surroundings to be Gotham City way before Bane, and chaos.

Thanks to Extremis, his sensitive hearing picked up an electronic whirring ten minutes later. Without having to open his eyes, Bruce knew it was the armor-clad billionaire approaching. He opened them nonetheless, and was just in time to see Iron Man descend onto the other platform. Bruce cocked his head upwards and saw the red-gold suit lowering itself until its flight stabilizers on palms and feet switched off, and Tony landed with a small clang.

The illuminated eye slits focused on him for an eerie moment, until the humanoid turned and strutted across a runway towards the Tower.

The Gothamite’s eyebrow rose in approval as a metal ring appeared from amidst the platform to encircle Stark. It then went into a smooth disassembling process to take the armor off of him as he marched on. From his position above, the shorter man again looked into Bruce’s direction as his helmet came off, but Wayne was unable to decipher the expression on Tony’s face.

After a couple of yards, the landing station had stripped Iron Man off his creator; leaving Tony clad in a dark neoprene suit before he disappeared from Bruce’s view inside the lounging area without looking back. Bruce lowered his head to look at his palms and continued his silent vigil on a city that did not even know he existed or cared. He was unsure about Stark’s distant behavior, but figured the less the other man wanted to bond with him, the better.

Bruce Wayne already felt like an alien in Tony Stark’s territory, despite the presence of Alfred and Pepper; even more so due to the curse of Extremis running through his veins. If he was honest with himself, the Gotham billionaire wished for nothing more than solitude; finding some peace of mind to come to terms with everything that had happened to him during the past few months.

When Stark did not return, Bruce closed his eyes again.

***

Footsteps, clinking glass, and a snippy voice made Bruce aware of another presence half an hour later.  
  
“From Robinson Crusoe to Full Metal Jacket in less than a day, not bad.”

Looking over his shoulder Bruce saw the other billionaire stroll towards him. Now clad in dark denims and a tight, black long-sleeved shirt, Tony mustered his shaven face and head with a mocking expression. The odd blue circle in his chest glowered brightly through the fabric, and Bruce focused on it for a moment. His eyes switched to the bottle, and the two tumblers Stark carried in between his fingers.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wayne straightened his back and watched as Stark planted himself in front of him and pushed a glass into his hand. Before Bruce had the chance to protest, Tony unscrewed the lid and poured him a generous shot of the amber liquid. He sloshed some of it onto the ground as he filled his own tumbler before he glimpsed back at the taller man.

“Impressive what the sheer presence of Pepper Potts can do to a guy, right? Cheers to that. Nice haircut by the way; very low-maintenance.”

Without waiting for a reply, Tony drowned his own drink in one fast gulp and gave a satisfied hiss through closed teeth. The Gothamite stared at the filled tumbler in his hand and cast him a wary glance. He had an idea about where the conversation was headed, and his brows knitted together in a frown. His eyes once more met those of the other man from where Tony now all but sneered at him.

“Leave her out of this, she’s just been trying to help.”  
With an ironic curl of the lip, Tony poured himself another shot and raised the refill towards Bruce.  
He pointed his index finger at him in one fluent motion before he raised the glass to his lips again.

“Yup, my thoughts exactly – leave her out of it.”  
The way Tony pronounced the ‘it’ made it clear to Bruce what, or rather whom he meant.  
The Gotham billionaire pressed his lips together and stayed silent.

Tony clicked his tongue and took the opportunity to comment on the untouched drink in Bruce’s hand.

“Laphroaig’s not your style? Best taste in scotch.”  
With a small shake of the head, Bruce swirled the liquid in its glass.  
“I don’t drink.”

The Californian billionaire harrumphed out loud as he absorbed the mumbled piece of information. “Maybe _that’s_ your problem. Stop being so damn rigid and free yourself a little every now and then. Oh, and besides…” Tony paused to put the bottle to his tumbler a third time “… with Extremis cruising through your veins, you’re never gonna get something remotely close to a hangover anyway. Should make use of that, buddy – life’s just granted you a huge favor.”

Feeling challenged, Bruce raised the glass to his mouth and let the rich flavor touch his lips. The alcohol burned its way down his throat, but he forced himself to down the whole shot. Eyes ablaze he leaned his back against the balustrade, crossed his ankles, and twirled the empty glass within his fingers. Tony nodded in appreciation, though he still exuded a faint air of hostility.

“See? Wasn’t even half bad.”  
With a scoff, Bruce made a move to hand the tumbler back to Tony.  
“Alcohol is not gonna solve any of your problems, just thought I’d let you know.”

Instead of taking the glass, Tony poured him another shot; daring him to object otherwise with a poignant look through dark eyes. “Oh my god, _really?!_ Gee wizz, and to know I paid five grand to have this shrink tellin' me the exact same thing! But hey, who knew Confucius Bat would be residing at my place one fine day, telling me all that infinite wisdom for free? Such a crazy world we live in!”

Tony was playing with fire and he knew it. Ever since he had injected Bruce with Extremis, he knew about the underlying side effects which followed the ingestion of the biogenetic formula. Increased tendencies towards violence and aggression were to be expected; and with all of Bruce Wayne’s undisclosed issues, it was a factor Tony had secretly been worried about from the very beginning.

After three straight whiskey shots on an empty stomach, however, Tony Stark was not the most rational human being walking the earth.

Instead of tearing Stark's head off, Wayne detached himself from the railing and scuffled past to the opposite end of the walkway where he sat down on the mid-high stonewall with a grunt. His free hand went down to massage his left calf for a while. After he was done easing up the muscle cramp, Bruce tipped his head back to swallow the second shot of single malt without complaint.

When he focused back on Tony, his mouth held a lopsided smile. “I’d make a lousy shrink. Poster boy for parental issues. Lunatic who dresses up like a bat at night, and most likely gets those around him either hurt or killed. So no, you'd better carry your first-world, rich-boy problems elsewhere, Stark.”

Tony stared long and hard at him for a split second, trying not to gawk. He then did the first thing that came to his mind; walked up to Bruce, plopped down next to him, and refilled his glass. The bottle of scotch was becoming alarmingly empty, and so Tony kept his own next shot to a minimum. All of a sudden, he did not want to get too loaded anymore; deciding Bruce definitely needed the buzz more than him.

The fact that the other man did not even complain about yet another refill spoke volumes, and Tony placed the bottle down next to his feet with care. He then nodded off into the darkness and cocked his head. His earlier anger at Wayne seemed to have evaporated, and Tony Stark felt a trifle more kindred spirits with him.

“Hm. I’ll go along with another set of parental mindfuck, raise you to a severe case of issues with my old man to whom I was never good enough, except if I built the latest technological shiz when I was barely able to walk, and I’m gonna trump the whole thing with the second supposed-to-be father figure who went berserk and tried to kill me for this little thingy in here two years ago. Tada - I win.”

Tony pointed his thumb at the bluish circle in his chest, gave Bruce a confident look that seemed to say 'So there!', and raised his glass up in the air. After a few seconds, during which Wayne seemed to mull over said things with a stoic face, he mimicked the gesture. They clinked their glasses together before each one sipped on their shot. The taller man then placed his elbows on his thighs, hung his head low and ran a fingertip across the rim of the tumbler.

Several heartbeats later, Bruce looked up sideways at the profile of the other billionaire.  
“What does it stand for, the ARC reactor in your chest?”  
Tony sputtered a little, blinked, and gave his drinking partner an incredulous stare.

Wayne gave a little shrug and looked back at his feet. “I’m sure you don't just prefer to read books underneath the blanket at night, so it made me wonder. It does power the Iron Man suit, right? But why do you...” His voice trailed off, unsure how to voice his suspicions. Tony smirked into the darkness of the mild New York night.

“Why do I wear it constantly with me, you mean? Well, kudos to you firsthand for knowing 'bout ARC technology. See, the whole building…” He made a sweeping gesture around. “… gets exclusively powered by it as well. But this nifty fella on me here's doing a much more crucial job… it powers my heart, so to speak.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to stare at him in utter perplexity. His eyes narrowed and once more examined the reactor glowering from underneath Tony’s shirt. Then he raised his glass to his lips once more before he spoke. “Like a pacemaker then?” Tony nonchalantly half nodded, half shrugged, and also sipped on his drink.

“In a way, yeah. Keeps the shrapnel away from getting to close. Cursed with awesome if you will. Oh, Obi most definitely didn’t see this one coming when he tried to get rid of me.” It did not take Tony long to summarize the events that followed his Afghanistan trip, and Obadiah Stane’s betrayal that nearly got him killed. He made sure to leave out the embarrassing episode of events before and after Monaco; as a Stark, some things were best left unsaid.

Ever the attentive listener, Bruce was able to read between the lines as the cocksure, extrovert playboy next to him talked about his own fair share of guilt regarding weapon’s manufacturing. Even though Tony tried to sugarcoat it by switching into the self-boasting process of building the high-end iron armor around his failures and openly called it heroism, Bruce understood.

It was not that far from his own set of motives that drove him out at night across the rooftops, and he could not help but to give a thin smile. “I’m sure your parents would be proud of what you’ve done.” The snorting laughter that erupted from the back of Tony’s throat was a hearty one. It had, however, a certain ring of cynicism to it that was not lost on Bruce Wayne either.

“Oh, sure - Daddy Stark would’ve appreciated the long laundry list of public fuck ups his only son created during the years. Good thing they didn’t have to witness most of it.” At Bruce’s questioning glance Tony made a wide, elaborating gesture that culminated in a swing for the bottle next to his shoes. He had decided he was not yet drunk enough for such a heavy conversation and proceeded to fill his tumbler anew.

When Bruce pulled his glass away in order to avoid yet another shot, Tony shrugged and emptied the bottle into his glass in one setting. He took a deep swig before he licked his lips and pulled his legs high upon the wall. After Bruce had watched him nestle into a cross-legged position, Tony leaned his head back to watch the stars above and concluded.

“They died in a car accident on Christmas Eve, 1991. Something with the brakes, the police said. I was twenty-one at that time, and if things had been different that night I would’ve been in the backseat of the car with them. That’s fuckin’ cosmic karma right in your face, huh? But… wanna know what’s funny? Despite all these years, I’ve never really gotten past thinking that maybe, just maybe Obi had his hand in that one as well. In retrospective it even makes all the more sense; he always wanted to get his hands on the company and me out of the way. Ah well, you gotta let bygones be bygones, right?”

When no reply came, Tony mustered the silent man next to him for a moment before he positioned his half-full tumbler in between crossed legs and leaned back to place his palms flat on the wall. All of a sudden, Bruce Wayne’s jaw was set tighter than just mere moments ago and he gave a curt shake of the head. “You make it sound like such a trivial matter. I’ll _never_ forget how my parents have died. As long as I live.”

The corners of Tony's mouth curved downward and he frowned a little. “Pardon my French, but it’s how _I_ deal with it. Don’t tell me mommy and daddy shipped you off to boarding school each year. Parents leave; no need to be a pussy about it.” Bruce’s fingers involuntarily twitched and tightened around the empty glass in his hand. While Tony very well noticed, he was too drunk and too unaware to read the signs.

“My parents got shot right before my eyes when I was eight. On the way home from the opera, some lowlife drug addict pulled a gun in the middle of the street. Up to this day, I still... don’t know why he spared me.”

Thoughts swirled through Tony’s intoxicated mind. He wondered if Pepper had ever told him, but for the life of him could not remember. It must have been on the news at some point during the mid- to late eighties, but an inward calculation verified he had been a teenager himself when Bruce became an orphan; too young and too oblivious to care. Back in the present, Tony felt lousy beyond belief.

“Okay, fuck - I’m officially an asshole.”  
Terse, Bruce waved him off; keeping his eyes glued to the small item in his hand.  
“You didn’t know, forget it.”

It did not do much for Tony’s conscience, but he figured there would be nothing to say to amend his previous, laconic statement. “So that’s why you’re out at night, loitering on rooftops in a giant bat costume? I mean…hmm, personally I totally get where you’re coming from, but it doesn’t really help matters, does it?” Bruce’s head shot up defiantly; his dark eyes ablaze with grief and anger.

“They’ve been good people - they didn’t deserve to be slaughtered! And if I hadn’t wanted to leave the opera earlier, they’d still be alive.” At that point, Tony honestly wondered if his own burden was as heavy as the one Bruce Wayne had been carrying for the past twenty five years. He scrunched up his face. “C’mon, you can’t really be blaming yourself for what happened…. oh crap, you _can_ \- and you still _are!?_ What the hell, man – that’s something no one can take the blame for, 'cept for that piece of shit with the gun!”

The sound of bursting glass cut through the fleeting silence. Incredulous, Tony stared at the splinters of what used to be an expensive crystal tumbler in between Bruce’s hands, arms and lap. Unscathed, Wayne brushed them down to the ground. No blood or injuries followed his outburst, and Tony inwardly prided himself once more on his Extremis formula.

“There’s not a single day that I don’t think about what happened. And I know what I’ve needed to become to stop people like him – even if I have to do it for the rest of my life.”

“We both shouldn’t be alive then, I guess… unless it was for a reason. I’d say we’re making the best out of the worst, aren’t we?”

A vague smile curled around the edges of Bruce Wayne’s mouth, and it was all Tony Stark got from him. The genius billionaire figured he wanted to leave it at that since all that emotional, brooding talk simply was not his style. He decided to switch topics towards a lighter note in order to save face.

“At least you’re now equipped with a genetic advantage – so screw the puny black rubber suit. And you don’t have to beg me to build you your own Iron Batsuit anytime soon.” He earned himself a very rotten look before Bruce stood up and walked a couple of steps across the crunching glass shards on the ground.

“That’s carbon-fiber reinforced Kevlar Nomex for you, Tin Man - and no, I don’t want anything belonging to you around me or my body anyhow.”

Uncertain as to whether Bruce was joking or, in fact, honestly insulted, Tony decided to make use of his scotch buzz at hand and finally addressed the most pressing issue that still lingered on his mind. “I hope this includes Pepper as well.” A mixture of bewilderment and disbelief greeted him when Bruce swung back around. The Californian inventor downed his drink before he set the glass aside and sat upright.

“She told me bout your little field trip earlier on. I wasn’t amused, honestly. This li'l thing here between us…” Tony put his feet back onto the ground and made a circling motion with his hand, including him, Bruce, and a not present Pepper. “…love triangle, ménage à trois, three's a crowd, or whatever you wanna call it, is bad for my nerves. I like a challenge every now and then, but... not about her. Never again about her.”

His voice trailed off into the night, and Tony forced himself to directly look into Wayne’s face.  
The other man's eyes narrowed as he cast him a cold stare.  
“Whom don’t you trust?”  
  
Bruce’s voice was gravelly and deep. It made Tony briefly mull on the unfortunate absence of his suit, should Wayne get into a virus-induced raging fit after all. “Most of the time: Not even myself, if you really wanna know. But if there’s one thing that makes me wanna try harder every single day, it’s her. And so… yeah, um, let me just tell you right here and right now that I would fight for her, no matter the chances I stand - come hell or high water… or Extremis.”

Much to his surprise, Bruce turned back towards the railing, crossed his arms upon the metal bar, and left the other billionaire to glance at his back. “You don’t need to worry. I won’t get in the way – as long as you’re treating her right, that is. She’s the best thing that can happen to you. Consider yourself lucky.”

At that point Tony also rose, grabbed his tumbler and the empty bottle, and cleared his throat. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, one he had not even considered to be there, let alone be so heavy. “Yeah, I do. Alright, think I’m gonna crash. Guess you’ll find your way back without me.” For another moment, he regarded Wayne’s profile in the dark. The Gothamite nodded and glimpsed into Tony’s direction.

“I’ll stay here for a while.”  
Not knowing what to say, Tony nonchalantly shrugged and walked back over to the patio door.  
On the steps he turned around and saw his guest looking back out into the night.  
  
“Hey Bruce…” Another turn of the head, and the shorter man could not help but to grin. “... no base jumping round here, ‘kay? One thing Extremis doesn’t grand you is wings, and we don’t want to scare the New Yorkers with a giant, rodent-impersonator-in-no-Kevlar flying above their heads. Not that they haven’t seen it all, but… you know.”

A sharp gust of wind rustled across Bruce’s face as he snorted in mock disdain at Tony’s inept wordings. Even though neither of them voiced it out loud, the two men had gotten to another, higher level of what could be seen as a future friendship. “With you around, they’ve certainly seen more than they ever should. Oh, and for the record: Being intoxicated doesn’t have to do _anything_ with Extremis, because I feel drunk - thank you very much. You’re a lousy scientist.”

When Tony Stark’s grin got wider than Bruce Wayne thought should legally be allowed, he shook his head in exasperation.  
  
After the inventor had left, the Gothamite eventually allowed a tiny smile to appear on his face. His gaze wandered back up and along the vast skies above Manhattan. For the night and the moment, he might have admitted defeat, but Bruce felt how the will to live and to fight Bane for his city slowly crept back into his glum state of mind.

***

High up in the designated penthouse, Tony Stark was quick to brush his teeth before he tiptoed into the dark bedroom. Mellowed out from alcohol, he crawled underneath the sheets. A nagging voice in his head however still scolded him about his behavior towards Pepper, so he scooted nearer and wrapped an arm around the covered heap that lay curled away from him.

When nothing moved at his ministrations, Tony spooned up behind the sleeping woman and pulled her close.  
At the contact with his cold skin, Pepper winced and woke with a start.  
“Tony…?”

Her voice sounded nasal and small at the same time, and the billionaire reached up with his free hand to palm the bedside lamp sensor above. Warm, decent light flooded the room, and one look at Pepper proved Tony’s suspicion. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks streaked with dried tears. He cupped one of them with a large palm as his eyes roamed around her pale, freckled face.

”Hey… sorry it took so long.”  
The blankets rustled as Pepper pulled out an arm from underneath and wiped at her face. She nodded, all the while averting his gaze.  
“I’m glad you’re here.”

Tony took the statement as permission to scoop his arms around her in a gentle embrace. With a small shiver at her soothing scent and warm proximity, he buried his nose within the junction of her neck and inhaled. Pepper shifted as well and twisted around to be more comfortable. Her arms went up and wrapped themselves around his cold torso. Tony closed his eyes again and gave a blissful sigh.

“You’re so warm, I like that.”

“And you’re like a block of ice.”  
With a little snort Tony nuzzled the soft skin under her ear and felt Pepper’s fingers tighten around his hips.  
“S cause I was out on the rooftop for a while… with the brooder.”

Pepper’s hands stilled in an instant, and her whole body became rigid. Tony’s head reappeared from his sanctuary spot to look at her, serious. “Maybe you were right about his spirits needing a little pick-me-up. Did you know the story about his parents?” Thrown for a loop, Pepper only nodded at him in utter perplexity. “What… I mean,… how did you?”   
  
He graced her with one of his unique looks that went deep down into the bottom of her soul. Then Tony pursed his lips. “Two men, a roof, a bottle of scotch… that kinda thing. Will repeat if necessary, but for now I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it worked. Otherwise I’ll just move over on the couch when Doctor Blum’s coming round next time.”

At a loss for words, Pepper raised an index finger and traced an imaginary trail from his temple down to his jaw line. It made Tony swallow and he let one hand run free under the blanket to caress the skin across her ribcage and abdomen. His ministrations elicited a small, content purr from her and made him all the more aware of his awakening senses.

“You’re a wonderful man, Tony Stark.”  
Her words were low, but he understood the subliminal in them nonetheless.  
“Anything for you, sweetheart. That’s what you do when you’re in a relationship… hey, you might wanna take notes.”

At his way of ruining a moment, Pepper put one of her hands low and pinched his butt. The small yelp he gave was quite satisfying. “Maybe _you_ should take notes and start trusting my female intuition.” In an instant, he rolled on top of her, framed her face with his hands and applied a soft kiss to her pout. “It’s not only your intuition I trust in, Pepper. I… hope you know that.”

Tony Stark then started to make sweet, gentle love to the woman by his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quotes taken directly from Iron Man and The Dark Knight.


	24. Chapter 24

The next morning, Tony woke up alone, with Pepper’s folded sleepwear next to him.

Her side was also neatly made and there was a piece of paper on top. The billionaire snatched it with a loud yawn and read her handwritten note. She was off to work in her office downstairs and wanted him to take a look at his daily agenda. Grunting, Tony rolled out of bed and scratched the back of his head. A faint hangover from the previous night erupted the moment he sat upright and tugged at his temples.  
  
“Jarvis – time?”

“It’s currently 9:20 AM, Sir. Miss Potts has left for work around 8:15 AM. Your schedule for today shows three meetings: One with Dr. Armond at 11AM, one with Mister Withers at 12 AM, and a vidcon at 3PM with Mister Kanigawa from Tokyo.”

“Ah, Tobi just wants to know my score on the DDR, the little twerp. Cancel the first two, Jarvis, and have Pepper reschedule for me. Right now I need a coffee, a shower, breakfast and a workout – not necessarily in that order.”

“Negative, Sir. Miss Potts declared your presence indispensable, to ensure the development status of the green energy project at hand.”  
  
Nodding to himself, Tony grabbed the StarkPad from the nearby table as he shuffled towards the restroom.  
Five seconds later, Pepper’s professional, business-clad appearance greeted him on screen.  
“Good morning, Mister Stark.”  
  
He grimaced. _Mister Stark._ After their passionate night, her rigid attitude either meant she was very busy, or someone was in her office.

“Morning, hon. Hey, listen, those meetings later on…” Tony decided to appeal to her better nature in favor of getting a free morning. "I really feel whacked today, you know? Must be cause of yesterday’s mission. Being hit by some huge piece of lumber kinda did my back in, even in the suit…” He gave a little wince for theatrical measure and tried to look extra miserable before he peeked back at her stoic face.  
  
“If that’s a pathetic try to lure me into canceling your meetings, then save your breath, Anthony Stark. You’re going to attend and that’s final.” For emphasis she crossed her arms, leaving Tony to ogle her chest for a second. Pepper poignantly cleared her throat and his eyes snapped up. The corners of her mouth were now turned upside down.

With his penchant for dramatics, the billionaire decided to spread it on even thicker. He swayed a little on his feet, leaned against the door frame of the bathroom and put up an even more miserable face. His free hand came up to massage at a sore spot on his neck. “Okay Pep. I guess I could…” He gave a pain-filled grunt and threw another cough in for good measure. “… make it if it means so much to you.”

Various emotions flickered across her face before Tony heard and saw her sigh. From the look Pepper gave him, it was clear she did not believe his shenanigans for one second, but her affection for him won over her rational mind. Or maybe she just knew better to leave him be instead of wrecking her nerves. “If you really feel bad, I’ll speak to Gray and Roderick and see what we can do. But you’ll do the Vidcon with Tobi, that’s preset. Make sure to rest and eat something till then, okay?”

Tony tried hard not to let the victorious grin splay out on his face as he nodded and she hung up on him. Enthused about his free morning, the billionaire instructed Jarvis to power up the espresso maker, while he rummaged through the fridge. Soon after, Tony devoured a ready-made batch of cinnamon waffles. With a satisfied whistle on his lips, he then threw himself into his workout clothes and went to his gym.  
  
It turned out that he was not the first one who had that idea that very morning.  
  
The clinking sounds of metal filled the air as Bruce Wayne added weight plates to a bar. Tony threw his towel over one shoulder, just as Bruce looked up to see who had arrived. Stark strode across the vast loft area and grinned at Wayne from afar. With a casual move, he flung the towel on a nearby bench and returned the brief, nodded greeting he got.

“Hey there. I thought bats were nocturnal.”  
Bruce pursed his lips before he lowered himself underneath the bar.  
“Jarvis apparently thinks I’m an early bird.”

Tony watched the other man bench-press 140 lbs with apparent ease and quirked an eyebrow. “Huh, probably the pre-installed alarm function. Didn’t reprogram it after you switched quarters, but I can change it up according to your preferences.” Bruce held the bar above his head after the tenth rep and threw him an amused glance upside down. “Oh, I already did.” He left it at that and continued training.  
  
Without further hesitation, Tony prepared his own stack of weight plates. He found himself piling up more pounds onto the bar for his warm-up set than usual. The other billionaire, clad in a simple white t-shirt and black track pants, did not bother to pay Tony attention and focused on his set. Still curious, Tony sat down on his bench, faced his guest and leaned forward. He placed his elbows on his knees and regarded Bruce’s lanky form.

“That’s what you usually lift?”  
From his position, Bruce only grunted as he finished his final rep and put the bar back with a heavy clank.  
He sat back up using momentum, straddled the bench and exhaled once before giving Tony a smirk.

“You want to compare notes, _Iron Man?”_

With a gesture bordering on indifference, Tony shrugged and lowered himself into position. “Nah, just curious as you still look like a string bean, it’s crazy. Guess Extremis really boosts your metabolism. You’ll be on peak performance faster than I thought.” Tony started his first set without further ado until he saw how Bruce got up and fetched a water bottle.

True to his own competitive nature, Stark masked the unfamiliar heavier weights and set down the bar with an air of effortlessness. Bruce meanwhile had put down his drink and walked over to the multi-rig station in the other corner of the gym. With an agile little jump, he grabbed the overhead bars and did a fast series of unassisted chin-ups.

A part of Tony -the scientific genius part- marveled at the aptitude, flexibility, and strength Bruce Wayne’s body displayed, after being bedridden and comatose not even two weeks ago. The other, manly ego part of him could not help but feel challenged. Envy fueled his own workout, and both men trained side by side for another hour before Bruce took a break, much to Tony’s joy. As they sipped on their respective water bottles and stared into the distance, Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the rig.

As they sipped on their respective water bottles and stared into the distance, Tony crossed his arms and leaned against the rig.  
  
“You done?”  
Bruce capped his bottle and slung the towel over his shoulder.  
His pale face was a little flushed, but he looked more awake than on all previous days combined.  
  
“Cardio’s still out.” His eyes roamed around. “Got a bag here for sparring?” Tony followed his line of vision and wiped the sweat from his temple. “I prefer Wing Chun to boxing. Oh, reminds me of which: What’s with your martial arts skills? I remember you were quite… dexterous the last time I kicked your butt.”

The taller man gave a shrewd smile and rolled his shoulders.  
“ _Tried_ to kick my butt you mean. Let’s just say I could incapacitate you in at least fifty ways without drawing blood.”  
Tony’s eyebrow rose and he pursed his lips.  
  
“Could you now? F’sure not while I’m in the suit, buster.”  
The taller man snorted at that and also crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
“There are situations in which your suit doesn’t do a thing for you. Maybe you shouldn’t always have to rely on it.”

Even as he pulled a face, Tony had to admit Bruce was right.

After the Avengers, Tony had wanted to improve his unarmed combat skills; preferably with the help of a certain Captain America. After New York and his destroyed mansion, however, he had never gotten around to ask or let alone do so. Due to recent events, Tony meanwhile tended to believe that a little, nonverbal heart-to-heart with the dark knight might even be more beneficial. Bruce Wayne would not be squeamish at all when it came to manhandling him.

“How about we’ll do some sparring so you get in your cardio, and I get to know some of the tricks you’ve got up your sleeve. Deal?”  
  
He made an inviting sweep with his arm towards the large boxing ring in the other corner of the loft. The delighted grin that spread out on Bruce Wayne’s usually too stern face should have been a strong indicator for Tony Stark that he had just gotten himself into something he soon would regret. However, the Californian billionaire’s too large ego overlooked that fact.

When both wore proper head protection and were equipped with bandages around hands and wrists, they did the obligatory shake hands before Bruce got serious. The first time he sent Tony down onto the mattress happened so fast, the shorter man could not even yelp out in surprise when the air got knocked from his lungs. With a halfhearted curse on his lips, he was quick to jump back to his feet, readjusted the helmet and saw Bruce leisurely skipping on the spot.  
  
“Beginner’s luck, Bruce. I simply wasn’t ready yet.”  
The bastard even grinned at him.  
“Lesson number one then - pay more attention. Your attackers don’t give a damn about you being ready.”

Before Tony had the chance to give a sarcastic reply, Bruce advanced in on him again with unforeseen agility. It took all of Tony’s skills and effort to not repeat his previous mistake, and he escaped Bruce’s second attack by ducking and twisting out of hitting range. Feeling quite triumphant, the Californian billionaire was just about to start bragging, when his back hit the ground a second time.

“Lesson number two – leave your ego at home.”

Tony made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat that sounded like an angry, wild boar. Blinded by aggravation, he flung himself at Bruce’s moving form and tried to get a hit in. His heedlessness punished him with the third defeat in a row, and when Stark was able to open his eyes again, after a brief moment of seeing stars, he saw the other man loom over him with a frown.

“Lesson number three…”  
With a strangled scream, Tony slammed a bandaged fist onto the floor next to him.  
“Seriously Bruce - shut the fuck up! How the hell is this supposed to help me anyway?”

Bruce waited until Tony had cooled off enough to sullenly let himself be pulled upright.  
“…control your temper. Seeing red doesn’t get you anywhere.”  
Before the shorter man exploded again, Wayne shrugged with a lopsided smirk.

“Guilty of that myself, I admit.”  
Tony sniffed once, exhaled and collected himself. He assumed a basic Wing Chun stance and glowered defiantly at his opposite.  
“Okay now buddy, think I got this. Come at me, bro. A little less conversation, a little more action - and we’re not talking Elvis here.”

When Pepper took a break from work during lunchtime, she sought out Tony’s presence.

She found him fretting on the couch with a huge heat pack jammed into his back. The way she kissed him thoroughly, brought him his favorite food and made him extra comfortable mollified the miffed billionaire a little. He kept the true reasons for his sore body to himself and went on to soak up all the pampering he could get from her. Bruce Wayne had the decency to remain a good sport and keep his mouth shut.  
  
Tony Stark vowed to train on until he would be able to knock the genetic freak off his feet at least once.

***

The following weeks were spent at ease at the Tower.

Bruce had gotten back into a vigorous workout routine to regain his muscle strength. The two billionaires were incorporating regular sparring sessions, to help Tony improve his non-suited fighting skills, and for Bruce to test out his many new-found abilities. Extremis granted him near superhuman strength, reflexes, and durability. After he had seen the impressive process Bruce made by sheer training, Tony sometimes feared if it had been the right thing to do.

Against his concerns, however, Bruce never made a move to attempt to exploit his advantages. He and Alfred continued to remain near inconspicuous around the Tower. The Gothamite only headed out into the streets of New York hidden behind baseball hat, hoodie, and sunglasses. Despite Tony’s persuasions to make use of the Stark Industries carpool, Bruce preferred to go out on foot; blending into the bustling metropolis.

He made use of spring season and took his cardio training outside, but refrained from running together with Pepper in Central Park. Tony was secretly glad that Bruce kept a respectable distance towards her, except for when the three of them occasionally met up for lunch, or at the Tower's private gym for a workout session. Still, he could not help but to feel a little bad for the other man and quizzed his girlfriend about something to grant Bruce a little fun.

One sunny Saturday afternoon mid-May found Stark and Wayne at a private race track outside of Manhattan.

A natural skeptic at heart, Bruce eyed the selection of different trail bikes lined up at the side with a frown. “It’ll be like practice for your big Gotham City comeback show – testing out your sensorimotoric abilities and such. And since I’ve come to learn you’re an even bigger petrol head than you'd like to admit, and I hardly can get your Bat stuff out here, consider this your very own Need for Speed training ground. Voila!”

Tony Stark, clad in washed-out denim, t-shirt, and designer shades stood next to the taller man on a dusty racetrack and rocked back and forth on sneakered heels. Bruce looped his arm through the open visor of a helmet, ran his free hand over short strands of hair, and squinted up into the bright sunshine. Despite the upcoming Californian heat, he did not seem to break a sweat underneath his leather riding suit.

He cast Tony a brief glance before he mustered the three sports bikes once more.  
“Huh. As if that’s the actual reason you dragged me out here in the middle of the day.”  
Eyes hidden behind a pair of bluish Porsche shades, Tony’s mouth curved into a disdained line.

He shoved his palms flat into the back pockets of his jeans, turned and walked away towards the small, empty canopied stand for spectators. His latest Audi R8 e-tron convertible they had arrived in stood aside, gleaming in the blazing sun. Tony swung around in mid-stride. “Ohh yeah, heaven forbid if Bruce Wayne _ever_ does something in his life solely for fun. I was just trying to help, sheesh.”

The Gothamite watched him saunter away and shifted the helmet into his other hand. Once more he eyed the expensive Enduro machines.  
  
While Bruce was grateful for the effort both Tony and Pepper made, he could not help but feel like the proverbial fifth wheel. He felt as if they were trying to free themselves from the guilt towards him; guilt because of their intact relationship, and guilt because of how Extremis had altered his destiny forever. It reminded him to not get too attached to the situation at hand and to make it back to his own world soon.

The ignition of a trail bike made Tony stop in his tracks before he had reached the driver’s door.  
  
With a big grin, he leaned against his Audi and watched Bruce Wayne speed off into the distance, stirring up large clouds of dust.  
Tony Stark then turned towards the upper rows of the stand, raised an arm and let his fingers form a victory sign.  
Pepper Potts and Alfred Pennyworth, hidden in the shaded seats, looked at each other behind their sunglasses and smiled.

From that point on, Bruce and the black Honda became near inseparable.

 


	25. Chapter 25

New York, May 2011

No five weeks after his resurrection, Bruce Wayne felt ready for his return to Gotham City.

On a warm, spring evening, Bruce sought out the presence of the genius inventor high up in his New Yorker sanctuary workshop. Stark, clad in what Bruce had come to learn was his trademark tinkering outfit of wifebeater and old denims worn to the threads, briefly glanced up and grinned at his guest.

“Waynster! What up? Trashed the bike again? I swear, your rough driving causes more damage to that machine than to your precious behind.”

Instead of an answer, Bruce leaned against the workbench and inspected the configurations Jarvis projected in the air for Tony to visualize. He watched the shorter man work in silence for a couple of moments, hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans, and stared down at his feet. “I need to get back to Gotham. Alfred and I will be leaving in less than a week.”

Tony did not reply, only grabbed a soldering gun and went back to where he was busy fixating the pulse bolts of his latest creation. Upon seeing the serum worked on Bruce, Stark had decided to give his very own Extremis-inspired armor a try. While he refrained from injecting himself with the formula, after Pepper’s threat to leave him for good, should he mess with his DNA, Tony at least tried to incorporate a new, ocular motion reader into the current Mark model.

“Uh-huh. Time and tide wait for no man, eh?”

Bruce gave a non-committal shrug and crossed his ankles. His eyes roamed around the large high-tech area with something between admiration and envy. Eventually, Tony stopped wrestling with his near-finished armor. He wiped an arm across his forehead, placed the soldering iron aside, and fished for a greasy rag to wipe dirty fingers on.

“Kay, then let’s have a look at your stuff now. Shame you got here without your special luggage, but Jarvis was able to recreate some of your gadgets for me to get an idea…” With a smooth click of his fingers, he had his AI open up another digital folder mid-air, which displayed the Batsuit and The Bat. At Bruce's incredulous stare, Tony pulled up a chair and motioned for his guest to have a seat. The latter chose to remain standing and eyed his digitalized arsenal in disbelief.

“Can’t let you head out without revamping the good ol’ rubber, now can I? Oh, and I was about to make some modifications for The Bat, but…” Tony stopped to grab a digital pen from the nearby table and proceeded to dig deep into the 3D-schematics; twisting and turning the bluish model for them to analyze. “… there’s _one_ thing I can’t wrap my mind around, and that’s the darn autopilot of this beast. It’s not letting me access its setup from here. Spill Bruce, what’s the deal?”

Once his composure was back in place, Bruce smirked and shook his head. He seemed relieved all of a sudden. “Leave it be. I’ll take care of that myself.” Tony wiggled a grease-stained finger in front of Bruce’s face and furrowed his brows. “Ah, ah, no more secrets, Batguy. Thought we left that behind after India. If you really want my help with this, you gotta put all of your cards on the table here.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed.  
“Who said I wanted your help, Tony?”  
Even though he had not meant for it to come off rude, Bruce could see the hurt flicker up in the other man’s eyes.

Tony then cleared his throat, threw the digital pen back on the table and trudged off into the far end of his working area, looking for a tool. “For starters because... d’uh - I’m Iron Man? Because I got all the tech you might need, and more? And, because, let’s face it, other people would, quite literally, beg me on their knees for my help?” Tony’s voice underwent the stages from annoyed to incredulous to quiet in fluent motion.

“Or, maybe, because you’ve helped me back then, and that’s what guys like us do for each other?”  
  
Bruce sighed and looked at his feet once more. At Tony’s tirade, his jaw set into a tight line. It made his cheekbones stand out more than usual.  
  
“I don’t know what’s going to be in store for me back in Gotham.”  
From where he had turned his back on him, Tony perked up at the faltering resistance within Bruce’s voice. He could not help but to smirk.  
“Doesn’t matter, that’s what I got Jarvis for. We’ll know about every little detail in advance, even what the bad guys had for breakfast.”

“Bane has antagonized the whole city against any resistance; even outnumbered the police. He’ll be heavily armed.”  
Tony rolled his eyes at Bruce’s apparent lack of trust in his abilities, and turned back around to look at his reluctant partner to-be.  
“Nothing a good clean shot of repulsor blasts won’t fix. Oh c'mon, stop searching for excuses Bruce - you can’t talk me out of this one.”

The Californian billionaire sauntered over to where Bruce Wayne stood, displeased look on his face, and slapped his broad shoulder in a finalized manner. “Tradeoff time: We head for Gotham together - I’ll leave the Bat untouched. You hear out my ideas for your suit – I'll try my best not to water your mouth with this innovative, ready-to-use micro EMP prototype thingy I made...”

Bruce detached himself from Tony’s close proximity and walked over to the holographic workbench, where his gadgets still hovered in mid-air. With two fingers, he began to turn the holo himself; cautious at first, then with more confidence. “No never sat well with you, did it?” With a cocked eyebrow, Tony followed suit to stand across from him and the hologram.

He watched on how the Gothamite twisted, zoomed, and studied the graphics despite seeing the technology for the first time. Their faces were illuminated by the bluish hues of the program as Tony shrugged. “Yeah, spoiled brat, only child, go easy on me. Whaddaya say – we got a deal?” After more moments of silence, which left Tony tethering on the verge of impatience, the taller man straightened himself up.

Before he gave an answer, Bruce’s eyes flickered to the entrance of the workshop. No split second later, Pepper appeared and leaned in the doorway. “Sorry for interrupting. Tony, can you speak with NYU for a sec? They want Happy’s legal guardian to sign the release papers for him, and my word apparently doesn’t count.” She pulled a grimace to go with her annoyance, and Tony drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk before he nodded and walked up to her.

They exchanged a few, quiet words in the doorway; some hushed conversation Bruce's sensitive hearing would have been very well able to pick up on, if bothered to listen. He chose to busy himself with the hologram instead. “Be right back. Don’t forget you still owe me an answer, Brucie!” When Wayne pulled a face upon the much detested, bastardized version of his name, Pepper could not help but laugh.

She moved further into the workshop, to take the space Tony had vacated, and looked at the sour man in front. “Do I even want to know between you two?" Her tone was teasing, and she cocked her head to go with the banter. Bruce stopped tweaking the EMP cannon guidance mount from the digitalized Bat and frowned at her in disdain. “He’s urging me to accept Iron Man’s help in Gotham. Bribing me into it, rather.”  
  
The young woman regarded her ex-fiancé and the unmistakable holographics with a thoughtful glint in her eyes. A mild smile then softened her features. “Believe it or not: Tony’s loyal to a fault. He would never let those close to him march into battle alone.” Bruce pursed his lips in a disparaging way. “I can handle my own; even more so than before. We all know that. And Gotham is _my_ responsibility.”

Pepper stayed neutral, despite her thoughts on superheroes’ egos, false pride, and everything alpha male. “And it shall be. It doesn’t lessen your value if you share the burden after all that you’ve done for its people. Good God - you’ve already given them _everything_ , Bruce!” She shuddered upon remembering the day Tony brought his emaciated, mangled form in. Bruce Wayne’s eyes then searched and found hers, dead serious.

“Not everything. Not yet.”  
  
He held her silent, protesting gaze until footsteps announced the return of the genius inventor at hand.  
“Taken care of, Pep. Happy’s going home as of next week. Bout time actually. So now, Bruce – are we going to Gotham City, or what?”  
With one last glance at the woman opposite from him, Bruce swallowed and shoved both hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

“End of the week – provided you finish up this mess and have something to fight in.”

Instead of giving Tony a high five as the other man held up his hand, Bruce turned on his heel, marched past them towards the staircase, and disappeared from their view. Pepper watched as her miffed boyfriend mimicked Bruce’s standoffish mannerisms, and slapped his chest next to the ARC to make him stop. “At least you’re in faster with _him_ than with S.H.I.E.L.D. back then.”  
  
In an unforeseen rambunctious act, Tony bent down, snatched Pepper off her feet and threw her over his shoulder to smack her skirt-clad behind. “Ooh, you’ve just brought it on yourself, Potts! Prepare to be smooched into submission.” Over the sounds of her high, clear laughter and squealed protest, Jarvis was told to lock down the workshop.

***

With Bruce’s fixed deadline in mind, Tony sprang into action.

He spent the upcoming four days on minimal sleep, food, and social contacts as he finished up his Pre-Extremis suit. Instead of injecting himself with the virus, Tony implanted a small chip underneath the skin of his arm. It allowed him to control the memory metal exoskeleton via electric charge, and by wearing a special, techno-mesh undersuit. The molecular structure of the armor and most interior elements were able to collimate to ninety percent of their working volume.

Tony knew he was capable of creating an even more advanced nanotechnology-based suit with the biogenetic formula. His Pre-Extremis armor -the Mark XLVII- was already tougher, faster, and lighter than his other two suits; even without the serum. He made sure to include his favorite repertoire of repulsors, Unibeam, pulse bolts, and an energy blade as well as deflector shields for defense. Together with his AI, Stark also made significant improvements to the helmet, the vectored repulsor fields, and took his HUD to the next level.

On the last night before the departure to Gotham, Pepper looked for her absent boyfriend, and found him deeply engrossed in a conversation with Jarvis about a thermocouple heat-inductive transfer field the AI was about to add to the armor. When he noticed his all-time favorite guest, Tony got up from his cross-legged position on the platform, walked up to her and, with pride in his voice, presented his latest invention which loomed majestically above them in its assembly rig.  
  
“Meet the latest addition to our family, Pep.”

When she did not immediately reply, Tony threw the woman by his side a curious glance. Pepper regarded the lifeless shell with a thoughtful expression. He spun around in a little half circle to meet her line of view, and mustered her serious face. Tony then wiggled his fingers before her face to catch her attention. “Something wrong? … earth to Pepper? Hello?”

She shook herself out of whatever place her mind had traveled, brushed her hair behind her ear, and touched his shoulder.  
“Sorry. I was just thinking - other couples get dogs, cats, or kids, but we… we get Iron Man suits.”  
He failed to give a quipping retort and focused on his latest suit with a bit of a frown in between his brows.

Pepper mentally scolded herself. Every time she tried to touch the subject, it always resulted in Tony shying away from any point of view. The redhead deemed him not ready for such future-boarding thoughts, despite her own little games of make-believe. She then turned and mustered Rescue and Godkiller in turns. “Is there a reason for this suit being so different from the other two?”

Tony followed her index finger up to the thick-plated, sturdy Rescue armor which stood motionless in its metal showcase next to his sleeker counterparts. Glad for the change of subject, the inventor stepped closer from behind, sneaked both his arms around her waist and rested his chin upon her left shoulder, pulling her body close in the process.

“Well yeah, there actually is. The most important reason, in fact: Protection.”  
Pepper tried to crane her neck to look at his close-by profile without bumping into his forehead.  
“But, I thought… I mean, isn’t that the point with _all_ of your suits?”

She felt Tony's hands tighten around her midriff and heard him inhale.  
“True. But this one… Rescue… has a special purpose. I need it to protect the one thing I can’t live without - that’s you.”  
Taken aback by his heartfelt confession, Pepper remained silent as Tony pressed his lips into the hollow of her collarbone.

“You… you built the suit for me?”  
He nodded against her shoulder.  
“I never, ever want to be in a situation again like during the attack on the mansion, unable to protect you. That’s where Rescue comes into play.”

Pepper twisted around in his embrace; urging him to let go of the spot on her shoulder. Her eyes started to brim.  
“I love you, Tony.”  
After saying the words out loud for the first time, she felt as if huge weight had been lifted from her heart.

It also was the moment, his countenance lit up brighter than the sun, and Pepper finally felt at ease. She understood how he had longed for her open endorsement and response to his feelings, that had taken so long for him to grasp, admit and act out upon. They spent the night making love, before Tony accompanied Alfred and Bruce aboard one of his many Learjets en route to Gotham in his suit, early the next morning.

 


	26. Chapter 26

Gotham City, May 2011

 

“God, this place _smells_.”  
Bruce Wayne turned around in the murky foyer and shot the whining billionaire behind him a darkened look.  
“And there is the door, right behind you. Thanks for the ride, and have a save flight home.”

Alfred Pennyworth threw the quarreling young men an amused glance and marched onward, ready to take care of his and Bruce’s Wayne’s luggage, and about to bring Wayne Manor back to life. Tony Stark rolled his eyes skywards and snapped his bubblegum. He wore casual clothes again and carried the portable suit in its suitcase. “Whoa, don’t get all huffed up - you’re such a prima donna, Bruce, f'real.”

“And you are nothing but a pain in the butt. Alfred?”  
Bruce then ignored Tony to call after his butler, who stopped on the stairs.  
“Yes, Master Wayne?”

“Let’s not shout it from the rooftops this place’s occupied again. Keep the lights down and the windows closed until we know more about Bane’s status in Gotham.” Pennyworth inclined his head in understanding and disappeared from their view. Tony bounced his knees in turn against the metal case of his suit in anticipation. “Go on, lead the way, oh foul mooded, dark knighted one.”

Without further comment, Bruce marched off into the direction of the cave, glad to find the premises abandoned and intact. He went for his hidden stash of gadgets while Tony resumed the familiar place in front of the mainframe station, opposite the large platform that was hidden underneath the water. He placed his suitcase aside and slipped an external hard drive from his pocket. In seconds, he had uploaded the necessary components of Jarvis onto the screens.

“What’cha want to look into first? The terrorists’ hideout? News coverage? Your WE email account? Oh, wow, look at that – almost as high as mine after Afghan…”

A black gloved hand reached over his head and pressed a button. It minimized the thousands of unread emails which popped up on screen and exited the mail program. Tony craned his neck and was met with a suit-clad, but cowl-less Bruce Wayne who glowered at him. The harsh neon light from above cast sharp-edged shadows upon his disdained countenance.

“Cut it.”

Tony cleared his throat, gave his best, toothy smile and threw Bruce a mock salute just as the other man turned around, his black cape wafting behind. “Scan the city’s perimeters, find out about any changes to the infrastructure. Try to get access to accurate news coverage if there’s any left.” Bruce continued to assemble his utility belt, but began to wonder about the lack of activity from the other man after a while.

From where he had initiated the lifting process of the platform, he threw Tony a glance; only to witness how the Californian genius idly sat with his back towards the screens and watched him work with a tune on his lips. Irritated, the Gothamite raised his eyebrows, forehead ceasing in a frown.

“What is it?”  
Tony tilted his head, made a zip-up gesture across his lips and pointed to the screens behind him with a thumb and shrug.  
Bruce curled his fingers into fists.

“I don’t have time for your silly games.”  
Mock-inhaling a large gulp of air through his mouth Tony snapped it shut again and nodded to himself.  
“Yeah, same here. Stop treating me like shit – I’m not the Laurel to your Hardy!”

Even though Bruce refrained from commenting, Tony saw the nanosecond a smirk hushed across his lips before he turned around. The Californian billionaire then craned his neck at the screen. “Jarvis, you up?” After some flickering, the graphics were online and the familiar outline of his majordomo appeared. “For you Sir, always.”

“Good. Now, give us an update on anything going on in Gotham since the past… make that that past six months. Focus on police reports and newspaper headlines.”

With the help of the capable AI, they found out about the anarchy status of the whole city, after Bane managed to trap most police forces somewhere underground. All bridges to and from Gotham had been blown to cut off any means of transportation to and from the city. The Gotham stadium was in ruins, the stock exchange had been raided, and hundreds of fugitives were patrolling the streets; for and with their leader Bane.

Tony then palmed his chin, thoughtful. “Hmm Bruce, maybe you _do_ wanna take a look at your mails after all…” At the serious undertone in Tony’s voice, Bruce watched him pull up the mail account once more as Jarvis extracted a coded message from Lucius Fox. Apparently the CEO had managed to send it right before he had gone into hiding under Bane’s reign. Bruce read the few sentences with care.

Fox told him he had been gouged into revealing the location for the fusion reactor from Wayne Enterprises. It was the one thing Bruce had planned to use for his version of a clean energy project; the joint venture with Stark Industries in mind. The Gotham billionaire clenched his teeth, but was glad Fox at least managed to keep himself save, all things considered.

The worst part was yet to come, as Bruce read on how Bane had managed to turn the fusion reactor into an atomic bomb and threatened to blow up the entire city should it not comply with his regime. Next to him, Tony read along without permission and almost squirmed from pent-up adrenaline. “C’mon, let me get out there in the suit, locate the nutso and his bomb, and end the whole ordeal in less than a day!”

“No you won’t.”

“What’cha gonna do? _Scowl_ him into submission from down here? Screw your stalling techniques, Bruce - let’s not waste any more time!”

“It’s not stalling, it’s called planning. A wild shot won’t get us anywhere, apart from causing even more chaos. Stay put, I’ve gotta run an errand.”

With those words, Bruce pulled the cowl over his head and freed the Batpod from its confines.  
Skeptical, Tony walked up to him and mustered the eccentric bike with keen eyes.  
“At least stay in touch – Jarvis uploaded my number onto your system, just in case.”

With a curt nod, the masked crusader ignited the machine and, without such much of a goodbye, sped off across a hidden ramp to disappear behind the waterfall with a jump. Tony Stark sat back down in his chair, blew out his cheeks and swiveled around to face the screens. “You got him mapped, J?”

“Of course, Sir. Do you wish for me to visualize Mister Wayne's route for you to follow?”  
The Californian billionaire thought it through for a split second, and declined.  
“Nah, no details please, but check in with him every five to ten miles, inconspicuous of course. Ah, and if there’s any audio, I’d like that too.”

It did not take Tony long to find out Bruce tried the police department Midtown, only to be heading for the Gotham General Hospital twenty minutes later. Curiosity piqued, Tony tried to make use of his audio tracker, but Bruce had left the vehicle and went on foot. ”Jarvis, find out about in-patients and see if any cops, attorneys or whoever are listed.”

The AI took a couple of seconds to process the information.  
“There is a Commissioner James Gordon who has recently been transferred from ICU to another station.”  
With a deep sigh Tony scratched the back of his head and chose the opportunity to stretch in his seat.

He had no idea about any of Bruce’s -or the Batman’s- connections within Gotham, but since he was bound to the cave until the other man returned, he let Jarvis update him on any possibly helpful detail regarding Gotham’s police department. When the Batpod broke through the waterfall an hour later and its driver had wordlessly pulled the dripping cowl off, Tony sat atop the desk and drummed his fingers on the metal suitcase in his lap.

“No help from that side, too, I take it?”  
Glum, Bruce tugged at a Kevlar glove.  
“Bane nearly killed the Commissioner, and the remaining policemen are either just rookies, or corrupt.”

On his way back to the cave, the Batman had had time to think things through. Thanks to Tony’s pre-programming, Bane had been unable to crack or hack the Wayne Enterprises’ R&D division system, and not gotten hold on any weapons or artillery, as it had been previously attempted. The rational thinking side in Bruce Wayne knew he was forced to involve Iron Man after all. Tony Stark shared a knowing look with him.

“So - when do we leave, cowboy?”

***

Iron Man hovered atop the destroyed entrance to the underground, where most of Gotham's police force sat trapped by Bane’s citywide pyrotechnics, and listened to his AI. “A direct repulsor blast would most likely harm a person in close proximity, Sir. You need to carve in the cornerstones first and avoid the collapsing of the rubble to the inside.”

Tony’s eyes flickered over to the image inside his HUD which displayed a blank, male silhouette. Bruce, the spoilsport, had refused to have a picture taken, with cowl or without. “Hey B - what’s your ETA? Cause I’m in position and ready to rock.” After some static, a gruff voice answered him. The characteristic hum of The Bat resounded in the background.

“Bane and his mob have just crossed the City Hall. They are heading down Standard Street and it looks like they’re about to raid civilian homes on East Park Side. Can you free them in time?” Tony eyed the body heat readouts that indicated way over three thousand bodies moving behind the barricade. He raised his gauntlets into the air and started to cut out large chunks. Sparks flew as repulsor rays pierced through rubble and piled up cop cars.

“Now I feel officially offended.”  
The Batman grunted into his ear.  
“I’ll need backup, and fast. We agreed that this is your department.”

“Ugh, all work and no play…”

“ _Tony_ …”

“Ya, ya, gimme a couple’a minutes – your cops here took the hide and seek game a little too serious. I’ll have them up and running your way in less than ten, okay?”

“Roger.”  

Bane’s army, which consisted from Inmates form Blackgate Prison and residents from the Narrows, rolled like an avalanche through the streets. After the Batman had realized his aircraft would cause more harm than good within the narrow streets, he left The Bat locked in safety within the nearby Trillium Park and made his way across Beaver Boulevard to lie in wait in a darkened alley, until Bane would show up.

“I thought they killed you.”  
  
He swung around, angry at himself for letting her sneak up on him, of all people.  
His large hand grabbed her throat and pressed the leather-clad woman into the wall behind her.

“Think again.”

Her mouth opened wide as he snarled at her, with eyes as cold and hard as obsidian. Selina Kyle clawed at his solid forearms and struggled to free herself. With a strangled voice, she tried to formulate words which he could not understand at first, so he lessened his grip around her windpipe.

“There’s... a bomb…”  
Something akin to fear flickered in her large brown eyes.  
While it made him take his hands off her throat, he kept her pinned against the brick wall to prevent an escape.

“You don’t come with a guilty conscience.”  
Resentment replaced her fear and she raised her chin in defiance.  
“What I come with is none of your business. And if it wasn’t for me, you probably wouldn’t even be alive.”

As fast as lightning his right hand shot back up and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look him square in the eyes.  
Selina Kyle gave a yelp as his gloves pressed deep into the hollows of her cheeks.  
“You’re expecting me to thank you?”

Her red lips curled into a sneer and made him briefly divert his attention.  
“I don’t expect… anything.”  
Not knowing what else to say, he let his hand sink and walked away.

Before he had the chance to see what Tony was doing a few blocks further north, her voice piped up from behind.  
“Did you even hear what I said?”  
Her footsteps followed him through the alley, but he marched on and threw her a final, dismissive glance over his shoulder.

“Better safe your hide if it goes off.”  
With a cat-like flip across some trashcans, Selina Kyle somersaulted in front of him.  
“It’s going off today.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

After Tony made sure the cops he had freed were unharmed, he wasted no time in sending them off to where Bruce had told him Bane’s men were moving forward. Most officers stood in the sunlight and blinked up into the sky in confusion, but Iron Man’s commanding presence seemed to do the trick and they veered away with pulled guns and determination on their faces. Tony grimaced and shot up into the sky.

“One down, too many to go.”

He recapped Bruce’s current location and frowned as he noticed The Bat was on standby. While Tony was miffed the other billionaire had strayed from their original plan, he was glad he at least had hooked up the Batsuit with an in-ear monitor, despite Bruce’s heavy protests.

“Red leader to Bat leader – do you copy?”  
Iron Man had to repeat his request two times before there was a strained voice.  
“Locate the bomb! NOW!”

Tony frowned at the unfamiliar urgency.  
“What’s up there, B? Where are you?”  
Again the Batman needed several minutes to reply. Tony cursed the Kevlar suit for not having its own HUD so the two would be on visual.  
  
“Do as I said!”  
Iron Man listened to the faint sounds of punches being thrown and gunshots ringing out.  
“Jarvis, you got that?”  
  
The AI answered in a calm voice.  
“Activating search parameters for missing nuclear energy source as we speak, Sir.”  
“Good. Let’s go and keep the Batster some company; sounds like he might need it.”

Iron Man sped through Gotham’s street canyons; eyes focused on the tracker signal as Jarvis’ scanner worked its way through the city. He grinned when he saw the police forces had come to the rescue, and pushed back on Bane’s renegade army with vigor. Amidst the chaos, Tony spotted the tall and dark form of the Batman caught up in mortal combat with the lead terrorist.

Even though Tony was more than ready to put a repulsor blast into Bane’s chest and be done with it, he refrained. With Extremis as a backup, and his whole arsenal of rage and anger, the caped crusader looked like he did not require any help. Tony therefore settled for a nearby rooftop and witnessed in satisfaction as Bruce floored Bane, who clutched at his respiratory system before crumpling into a boneless heap on the ground.

In quick strides, the Batman left the center of the street fight and escaped the approaching police forces through a nearby alley as they started to surround the fighting scene. Confused frown behind his faceplate, Tony trailed over to the park where Bruce had stashed the enormous Bat.

“Nice fight there, Bats.”  
When Iron Man’s boosters powered down behind him, the Batman sat down in his aircraft. The visible part of his face was one, tight line.  
“Did you locate the bomb?”  
  
The metal humanoid spread his arms in a self-evident gesture.  
“Jarvis has his eyes on it so to speak… pray tell, J, where's the little bugger?”  
The AI displayed a graphic on both Stark's HUD and within The Bat for them to muster.

“The nuclear device is not held at a specific storage, Sirs, it is moving around downtown. And it has been activated. Detonation in twenty point five minutes.” Tony tore his eyes away from the moving red object inside his HUD as The Bat's cockpit closed all of a sudden. Bewildered, Iron Man dashed upwards to hover right in front of it.

“It wouldn’t hurt speaking to me about what’s next, B.”  
From behind the thick, bulletproof glass, the dark knight looked right back at him.  
“I’ll take care of this.”

His gruff voice reverberated in Tony’s helmet. Before The Bat was able to pull out of the woods, however, Iron Man grabbed the front machine guns with both hands and held the whole aircraft in its place. Tony could see Bruce shake his head with gritted teeth. “Let go, Tony. This is my responsibility.” Tony’s arms started to shake inside the suit from the shuddering force as the dark knight powered up the engines to the max.

“What the fuck, man, let me help! I'll get it and take it outta here faster than you!”  
Dark eyes stared right back at him.  
“No.”

The Batman pressed an overhead button inside the cockpit. Without warning, all of Iron Man’s systems went offline in less than two seconds.  
  
It caused Tony to lose control of any functions including Mark XLVII's flight stabilizers, and he dropped down to the floor like deadweight with a loud, metal clang. “Like HELL! Jarvis?! Backup power supply - NOW!” Inside the darkened HUD, Tony’s eyes darted around when even his AI did not answer, and all he was left with was static in his ear piece. The sinister voice of the Batman interfered harshly with his colorful cursing.

“You won’t pull off another stunt with a nuke in this city. One time’s enough.”  
Left without visual or the capability to answer, Tony seethed behind his darkened faceplate as the other man spoke on through static.  
“Think about her, she needs you.”

Stark remained on the ground on his back, trapped inside his 230 lbs. Iron suit, and had to wait until the power outage stopped jamming his system. After fifteen minutes, during which he was offline and which felt like an eternity to him, Jarvis was able to reboot the armor. “So. Not. On! Jarvis - we’ll talk about this later! Gimme a status now. Where is The Bat? And where’s the goddamn sonofa…”

Like a rocket, Tony shot up into the sky as his HUD filled up with its usual infographics. Before the AI had time to explain, a harsh, bright white detonation cloud from across the ocean caught their attention. Out of instinct Tony held up a gauntleted hand in front of his visor, until the spectacle had died down seconds later. Jarvis’ voice reached his ears.

“The nuclear weapon has been neutralized. Radioactive contamination higher than normal within six miles. Radiation dose around 0.35 Gray at the moment. No immediate danger to the population of Gotham City. No individuals harmed in close proximity.”

Tony scanned the surrounding waterfront with each passing second.  
“But where’s…? Get me through to The Bat immediately!”  
His eyes fervently regarded the screen as the connection failed to load into his headset.

After two minutes, Jarvis gave up.  
“I’m sorry Sir; I cannot seem to get a connection to Mister Wayne, or to his aircraft.”  
Angry and desperate Tony kept trying to contact The Bat over and over, only to receive static each time.

Iron Man spent the rest of the day and most of the evening at the Bay area of Gotham City, scouring the waterside high and low for a sign of life from Bruce. When the diminishing power sources from his armor forced him to return to New York late that night, he felt utterly drained and devastated. Pepper stood waiting for him at the platform with eager eyes and Tony desperately wished for not telling her the bitter truth.

As he held her tight while she wept in his arms, Tony’s jumbled thoughts strayed back to the conversation with Wayne before their departure. The redhead eventually fell asleep after he had coerced her into taking a mild sedative, and he sneaked into his workshop and had his AI recall the Gotham City scenario.

“Jarvis, gimme The Bat - in full size please. All over the place here if you like.”  
The huge 3D model flickered once before it hovered right in front of him.  
Tony meandered through the graphic, one hand propped underneath his chin.

“Show me the details of the autopilot again.”

Despite Jarvis’ offline status during the final stages of battle, the AI was able to display the latest status message he had received from the aircraft, before Bruce had jammed their connection. Tony palmed his jaw in concentration. While he did not know how yet how Wayne had overridden his own system, something did not add up to the whole martyrdom at hand.

The genius inventor spent the rest of the night trying to find a solution for the missing piece of the puzzle, as sleep avoided him with fervor.

***

Bruce was gone.  
The words played over and over in Pepper’s mind through her drug-induced nightmares.  
Even in dreams, her voice was hoarse from screaming.

She saw him fall out of the sky, just like Tony, only to disappear within the dark abyss of a nameless city with no one to catch his fall. Another time, Bruce’s lifeless body lay to her feet; the cowl cracked and the face behind it bloodied and beyond recognition. In a final horror scenario, Bruce got pulled underwater, away from her frantic grasp, and she watched him struggle for air before he drowned right before her eyes.

Pepper's cries vanished into nothingness.

The young woman awoke, drenched in sweat and two days later, to the concerned countenance of Tony Stark next to her on his side of their bed. His cheek was pressed into the cushion, and his brown eyes were full of sorrow. “Hey.” She blinked at him in confusion before she averted his scrutiny and pressed the heel of her hand into her eye socket.  
  
“What time is it?”

Her voice was rough and sounded foreign to her own ears.  
The mattress moved as Tony scooted nearer and scooped her boneless body up into an embrace.  
“Eleven in the morning. How do you feel?”

“Tired.”  
  
Her arms found no strength to return his hug, so Pepper let herself get smothered by his warm, solid body. His ARC was hidden underneath a thick, black sweater. “You’ve slept for over forty-eight hours, hon. Might wanna try and eat something.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple, all the while running his gentle fingers up and down her back. Pepper stared at the cuff of his pullover, unseeing, and shook her head.

“I’m not hungry.”  
With what little energy she could muster up, Pepper extracted an arm and grabbed a handful of his shirtfront.  
“Tell me it was just a dream, Tony.”

His eyes followed her motions before he regarded her with a burning intensity.  
What she read in his soulful gaze required no answer, and she uncurled her fingers from the fabric.  
“He was so strong after all that he’d been through. How could... how could this happen?”

Tony raised a hand to stroke her hair and tried to find the right words. He wanted to tell her his suspicions without getting her hopes too high. “Made me wonder, too. So, I decided to dig a little deeper…” His cryptic words earned him a bleak stare in return and Tony released her to slide over to the edge of the mattress. “I’ll tell you over breakfast in bed.”

When Pepper had something solid in her stomach, and Tony had crumbled his fair share of croissants into their sheets, he had told her about everything that had happened in Gotham; right up to the point where Bruce overrode his suit and disappeared to dispose of the bomb himself.

Once she had regained some of her color, the two of them shared a long, hot shower, during which Tony kept his libido in check and busied his hands with washing Pepper's hair in a caring, sensuous gesture. She soaked up all the comfort she received from the man by her side, until she felt stable enough to make a decision.

Seeing they were unable to get a call through to Gotham City, as telephone networks were still out of order after Bane’s terror regime, Pepper and Tony agreed to fly out to Wayne Manor late that afternoon. Tony took precautions and had Godkiller and Rescue shipped on board of his Cessna as well, but chose to stay out of the suit and keep Pepper some much needed company during the two hour flight.

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

When they reached the private airstrip of Wayne Enterprises, Tony approached a few ground staff members and spread it on thick about needing a ride to the Manor. The billionaire was given blank stares until he sighed, flipped his wallet open and revealed five $100 bills. In combination with his motormouth, it earned him the keys to a twenty-year old, rusty Buick Roadmaster Estate from one of the mechanics.

While the workmen had apparently never heard the name Tony Stark, they at least let his airplane and flight crew concede for time being – and for another $500 contribution. Tony seethed as he strapped himself in the driver's seat. “Greedy punks. We’ll be lucky to make a mile in this piece of junk!” The young woman next to him wiggled into the worn crème-colored passenger seat and watched her posh billionaire wrestle with the gear shift of the 1993 vehicle.

If she had not felt so glum, Pepper would have had a field day upon seeing the very Tony Stark surrounded by cheap plastic, worn-down car mats, and a dashboard with a cassette deck. It blared out tinny country music the moment Tony pressed the accelerator, and they rode along the Palisades to the sounds of Dolly Parton. Pepper busied herself with the track lists on the back of the cassettes, after conversation was minimal due to no ventilation system and them rolling down the windows to stand the odor of dog from the trunk.

After half an hour, they eventually reached the gates of Wayne Manor. They came to a halt in front of the main entrance and saw the trademark black sedan parked up front, its truck deck open wide and nobody in sight. Tony looked at Pepper and patted down his hoodie jacket for his cognition headset. He knew his suits would be able to reach them in less than five minutes and tried to dampen his own nervousness.  
  
“Let’s have a look, eh?”

At his voice, Pepper shook herself out of her reverie, nodded and opened her door. Tony joined her moments later to interlock hands with her, and stared at the open entry of the Manor. Once inside the foyer, both of them looked around and frowned at the cloaked surroundings. Everywhere, large white sheets of fabric covered precious interior items like paintings, antiques, and furniture.

“What’s happening here?”  
The young woman kept her voice low and saw Tony shrug from the corner of her eye.  
“Dunno. Maybe we should…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of a gun being cocked from above made them freeze. With stiff backs they slowly turned their heads upwards and saw Alfred Pennyworth standing on the lithic staircase, lowering what looked to be a Remington shotgun to give them a befuddled look.

“Master Anthony… Miss Potts?”  
Tony blew out his cheeks and squeezed Pepper’s hand as she sagged a little next to him.  
”Geez, Al, you just gave us the scare of a lifetime!”

The butler made his way down to them, and while Pepper embraced him, Tony mustered the two suitcases next to his feet. “Oookay, now spill: Where’s Bruce, and what’s with this holiday-leaving-scenario right here? Seriously, I’m developing an ulcer from all the hassle you sneaky people are causing me!” Alfred let go of Pepper’s forearms and bent down to retrieve the luggage. He made a point to keep the rifle on him and started walking outside towards the limousine.

“You are the last person who was with him, Master Anthony, shouldn’t you tell me?”

Pepper exchanged glances with her boyfriend and saw him mustering the butler with a suspicious glint in his eyes. “Alfred… - Tony and I came here because there’s a chance Bruce might still be alive! But… if you are leaving Wayne Manor, how will he know where to find you? Where are you going?” The couple watched the elder man secure everything inside the car before he closed the trunk with one deft motion.

Alfred marched past, shooed them out of the doorway, and locked down the Manor's heavy front doors. Then he threw Pepper a mild glance.

“I think after everything that happened, a quiet and peaceful vacation in Italy sounds just about right to recover from the stress and the trouble of the past few months. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Potts?” At the dumbfounded stares from both her and Tony, Pennyworth opened the driver’s door and gave them one last, cryptic look over the roof of the limousine.

“You two should think about it as well. If you do, be sure to visit the island of Ischia.”

As the butler left them standing amidst a cloud of dust, Tony scratched his cheek and threw Pepper a sideways glance. The redhead stared after the limousine with a contemplative expression on her face. “I don’t know whether to feel offended, or relieved… or both.” The genius billionaire gently led her over to where their own means of transportation awaited them. With a grand swipe of his arm he pointed at the Buick.

“I feel you, sweetheart. You may think about it on the way back, over Dolly’s, uh, ‘Heartbreaker’ album. After you, Miss Potts.”

Their ride back to the airstrip proved to be difficult, when the Estate Wagon broke down two miles from their destination point. While Tony stuck his head under the bonnet and examined the fuming motor block, it gave them the chance to listen to all remaining Country cassettes from the glove department. Even though the inventor genius was able to fix the problem, Pepper eyed his expensive Dsquared2 t-shirt and the grease on it with dismay.

They arrived at the tarmac forty-five minutes later than planned; dusty and more than ready to leave for home.

“This city’s _so_ seen the last of us, Pep, I can tell you. NY, here we come.”  
He groused at his girlfriend as he strapped himself in and listened to the pilot going through the lift off pre-procedures.  
With care Pepper rubbed Tony's belly and simultaneously the soaked-in oil stains on his shirt.

“Never say never.  I just hope the two of them will find peace - anywhere else but here.”

***

As the Cessna crossed the Ohioan boarder, Pepper’s solemn gaze followed the coastline of Lake Erie, until a small commotion next to her woke her from her thoughts. Tony had taken the opportunity to freshen up in the jet’s lavatory and switched his ruined shirt for a clean one. He slid in next to her, pulled her close to him and fetched a blanket from a nearby seat to wrap them into.

With a content sigh Pepper snuggled up close, inhaled the familiar scent of Old Spice, and felt his fingers grasp for hers. They were cold to the touch and she tried to wrap hers around them for warmth. The billionaire began to clear his throat multiple times, but remained silent. The redhead eventually raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?”  
He made a move to free his hand and encircle hers, but settled for a middle ground and intertwined them.  
“Pep, I’ve been thinking…”

She re-tucked her head under his chin with a theatrical sigh.  
“Oh, God help us all.”  
A grunt was her answer, and for the next few heartbeats, Tony said nothing.

With a smirk Pepper eventually bopped his side with a gentle elbow. “Okay, fine, I’ll rise to the bait: Please enlighten me as to what the great Tony Stark has been thinking about? A suit for submarine travel? Jet pack engines for his sports cars?”

“This is hard enough without your wisecracks.”

Taken aback, she freed one hand to push herself in a sitting position and watched the otherwise cocksure man stare down at his lap, subdued. He was twiddling with her fingers underneath the blanket, and a frown had settled between his brows. Pepper brought her palm up to cup his cheek and urged him to look at her.

“Okay, I’m serious. Tell me.”  
His eyes; large and brown, darted within hers for a second before he took a deep breath.  
“Yeah, I’m serious too – about us.”

Her heartbeat increased ever so slightly, but Pepper held her tongue. “You see, Pep, after all that’s happened to me… _to_ _us_ … in the past years…” He stopped, licked his lips, and his fingers pinched hers for a brief moment. “Uhm, well… there’s that notion of coming to terms with life and such, and -by Jove, this sounds corny- but… life’s short, Pep, right? Right! And there’s always this thing about bad timing… and…”

“Tony…”  
“Yeah?”  
“… what is it that you want to tell me?”

With a deep intake of breath, Tony Stark slung back the blanket to reveal their entwined hands. He raised them and looked the woman next to him square in the eye. “I never want to be separated from you again. Like - ever. And second time’s the charm for me here, so: Marry me, Pepper Potts. Once and for all. The whole nine yards. Please.”

The seconds until she was able to answer him under her breath were the longest Tony Stark had to wait for in his whole life.

”Yes. Yes, I will.”

Half laughing, half crying he kissed the back of her hand before her lips met his in a crushing kiss. When they released each other, Pepper leaned her forehead against his and caressed his temples with her thumbs. Tony then scrunched up his face. The woman by his side pulled back to rest her palms on his neck and look at him in quizzical demeanor.

“Second thoughts already?”  
He shook his head with ardor.  
“Hell, no! But I, um, kinda winged this one, so I don’t have a ring with me right now… But - I promise: As soon as we’re back…”

Pepper laughed and silenced him with another kiss.  
“Oh you’d better, Stark. This is the last opportunity for us to get it right!”  
A big Cheshire grin appeared on his face.

“Don’t you worry Potts; you’ll not only get the most striking engagement ring the Western Hemisphere has seen, but also a wedding extravaganza people will be talking about for years to come! Ha, I might just give Beyonce a call; see what she’s up to these days…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know where this is headed. Mind-numbing fluff and disgusting, sugar-y, romance-y mush. Bear with me, it's the final chapter (and I totally would be down for a billion-dollar-wedding with Tony myself :-))


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the following quotes from Tony are taken from RDJ's motormouth personality at various events (the hand and foot imprint ceremony at the Grauman's Chinese Theatre; some other interview I cannot recall right now) He's downright amazing, and I love him just as much as Tony Stark than I do IRL!

Malibu, August 2011  
  


Anthony Edward Stark and Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts got married on a sunny Saturday morning, August 27th  2011, at Stark mansion.

It was a surprisingly low-key wedding ceremony with only a handful of guests who had received the ‘Save the date’ cards two days earlier, to minimize possible leakage to the paparazzi scene. The list of attendees held the names of Happy Hogan, James Rhodes, Dwight Johnson and Bambi Arbogast.

With regards to Tony’s background, they had searched for a former Roman Catholic priest who was able to perform a Catholic inspired ceremony without them setting a foot inside a church. Tony considered himself too much of an atheist anyhow, and Pepper had never been confirmed, so Father Geoff was the perfect symbiosis of tradition and modern age.

The backyard of the mansion had been beautifully decorated with hundreds of vibrant rose bouquets and tiger lilies.

When Pepper stepped out of the open glass doors into the sunlight in a white Oscar de la Renta dream of lace and silk, all eyes watched her in awe-stricken silence. Tony swallowed hard against the collar of his Valentino corduroy tuxedo and mumbled a few words in Italian, his mother’s native language, as his soon-to-be wife walked down the aisle towards the small circle of confidantes.

Underneath a baldachin of fragrant Japanese wisteria and delphinium, Tony lifted the delicate veil with care, and Pepper smiled at him. It was a shy but excited smile, and he made a move to grasp her slender fingers before the ceremony began. When it was time for their traditional marriage vows, Father Geoff turned towards Pepper and with a gentle nod indicated for her to begin. The redhead cleared her throat.

“Tony, today I choose you to be my wedded husband. I will respect you, care for you, and grow with you. Through good times and hard times, in sickness and in health, in failure and in triumph I will be there for you, giving the best that I can. I promise to be faithful, supportive and loyal and to give you my companionship and love throughout all the changes of our life. I promise to support your dreams and walk beside you, offering courage and strength through all endeavors. I will love you enough to risk being hurt, trust you when I don't understand, and celebrate life with you in joy. From this day forward, I will be proud to be your wife, your companion, and your best friend."

His magnificent smile and his bright brown eyes shone back at her as Tony impulsively raised both her hands to his mouth and pressed them against his warm lips. Father Geoff let him concede with a kind smile, and the billionaire continued to hold and stroke her cold fingers in his as he got ready for his own part. With a last look around at the emotional countenances of their witnesses, he wet his lips and focused back on the woman in front of him.

"Today, Pepper, I take you to be my wife. I make a commitment to you right here and now: With God's help I will love and serve; honor and protect you. I'm choosing today to spend the rest of my life with you.” With ease, Tony slid off her unique engagement ring to put on her right hand for time being. It was a ring designed by Stark himself, holding over five carat of the world’s most expensive blue diamond.

The billionaire got it transformed into the shape of a miniature ARC reactor, and replicas were made, once Pepper had been spotted with it on the streets for the first time, weeks ago. The groom then turned around to Rhodey, who stepped forward and presented a small, red velvet casket. With slow, deliberate movements Tony inched a sleek, platinum wedding band over her finger and put the engagement ring atop of it. 

“With this ring, I give you my promise: From this day forward, you shall not walk alone. I give you my heart and believe me; I have no greater gift to give. I promise to always do my best. Loving what I know of you, trusting what I don’t know yet, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me through all our years, and in all that life brings us."

Tears ran down Pepper’s cheeks as she turned to Rhodey to retrieve the ring for Tony. After she had slipped the massive platinum band onto his finger with trembling hands, Father Geoff beckoned them to face each other and raised his hands.

"Anthony Edward Stark and Virginia Potts, today you choose each other before your family and friends, to begin your life together. For all the tomorrows that follow, you will choose each other over and again, in the privacy of your hearts. Let your love and friendship guide you as you learn and grow together. Through your partnership, triumph over the challenges in your path. Through the comfort of loving arms, may you always find a safe place to call home. And now, by the authority committed to me as a man of God and through the power vested in me by the State of California, I hereby declare you to be husband and wife. Anthony, you may kiss your bride."

And so Tony Stark did, with a passion untamed, to the sounds of applause and cheering from their wedding guests, the waves of the ocean crashing upon the shoreline of his mansion and the gentle sigh of contentment from his wife. The little wedding party went through the formal part of the designated witnesses signing their names to the certificate of marriage, before everybody enjoyed the rich breakfast buffet outside on the spacious patio.

Pepper and Tony then said goodbye to Father Geoff and shooed their guests into a limousine, towards the nearest Stark Industries’ airfield.

***

The Starks followed them in Tony’s favorite Cessna all the way over to New York where the big, official Stark Wedding party was about to take place later that evening. While the press had been left in the dark about the date of the actual ceremony, newspapers and magazines had been spreading the word on the upcoming wedding party of the year for the past few weeks.

Before their big entry, the newlyweds took a brief detour to Stark Tower; to freshen up and prepare for the festivities. While Pepper allowed Tony to carry her over the threshold of their penthouse apartment, she warded off his nimble, amorous tries to lure her into what he called a pre-wedding night rehearsal. “No means no, Mister Stark. You’ll have to wait patiently just like every other groom until the official party’s over.”

She amended to his pouting expression by kissing him and redoing his bow-tie at the same time.  
”Why Mrs. Stark -wow, I _like_ the sound of that- you’re cruel. Not even a li'l peek?”  
Pepper shook her head, but her stern look vanished at the delight in his voice.

“Let’s just say it’s totally worth the wait, okay?”

Tony mock-clutched at his ARC as he followed her towards the private elevator. They went all the way down to the underground car park where a monstrous, rented white Cadillac limousine awaited them. Pepper all but recoiled at first sight, and Tony bristled with glee. “Appropriate means of transportation for my lady.” Aghast she peeked inside and realized Tony’s boisterous exclaims about their wedding party being all the more eccentric had not been empty talk.

“Gosh, Tony, this is _insane_. It’s just the two of us – this thing here could carry all of the New York Knicks!” Tony patted the spot where he assumed her behind to be underneath the wedding dress. “Ah, but they’re not invited. Come on, get in honey, time’s a wastin’!” The billionaire had spared neither trouble nor expenses to fulfill his wife’s wishes. Pepper felt he had exceeded them by far in his typical Stark-style.

They rolled down Park Avenue and had to grin from behind tinted windows at the fascinated looks from pedestrians and tourists alike. Even in a city like the Big Apple, the largest limousine around with its thunderous engine and flashing lights was a sight to be seen for any fellow New Yorker. After a ten-minute drive, they arrived at the designated address in Midtown West.

Right from the start, the two of them had decided to have the wedding party at another venue; to keep their rebuilt sanctum to themselves.  
  
Gotham City Hall not only was an opulent, magnificent venue, but most of all a silent nod to their very own Gotham City connection. None of their five hundred guests, amongst them the members of the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark Industries employees and fellow friends alike, were able to understand the reference, and the couple kept their mouths shut with twinkling eyes and some cheeky shrugs of their shoulders.

Once the newlyweds had arrived, hundreds of paparazzi fought like crazy with magazine photographers and reporters alike behind solid crush barriers for best pictures. The air was white from the frenzy of camera flashes, and shouts for them to pose outside the mighty entrance doors drowned out anything else. Pepper’s cheeks and neck had started to flush red with agitation, and she clutched Tony’s arm in a vice-like grip.

Like a pro, Tony threw them a few victory signs before they went inside. There, almost everyone from the vast guest list was already seated, banquet style, and waited for the appearance of the bridal couple. Their entry was about to be displayed on a big flat-screen above the stage, for the invitees to see them from each and every seat within the hall.

The instant they set a foot inside the grand ballroom, ‘You win again’ from The Bee Gees started to blast at full sound.

Pepper flinched and stared at her husband in bewilderment. Tony’s laughter got drowned out by the first few beats and he patted her arm with affection at his surprise prank. When her initial shock ebbed off, Pepper shook her head with a grin, exhaled and let him lead her onwards in his trademark swagger through the endless rows of tables. Left and right, people rose from their seats to smile and clap along at the peculiar choice of wedding entrance music.

Everyone watched as the couple more or less grooved their way down the center aisle; laughing and waving around. With a proud smile, Tony gave a few enthusiastic fist pumps, and had the crowd respond with a respectable cheer. Pepper half-laughed, half-suffered through the four-minute ordeal, until her husband got her seated at their front and center table. In quick steps, the billionaire entered the stage and reached out to be handed a microphone.

A spotlight was on him in an instant. As the music faded out and the guests had taken their seats again, Tony beamed and calmed down the still applauding crowd with several flicks of his wrist and his trademark grin. “Yea, yea, yea – bet none of you saw _that_ one coming! Not even my beautiful - and I am finally, _finally_ able to say that: Wife _-_ would’ve thought I of all people owned a Bee Gees CD… right, darling?”

He gave her a dazzling smile before he made a grand, sweeping gesture towards her. “Ladies and gentlemen: I'd like to present and embarrass the one and only Mrs. Pepper Stark. The woman who _never_ fell for any of my tricks, except for my masterpiece: The proposal!”

Deafening applause resounded through the hall, and Tony made use of the little break to sashay back down to her and steal a smooch. The spotlight followed him over to where Pepper remained sitting, took his face in her hands and pulled him into an ever deeper kiss that made the crowd go crazy. With a shrewd grin firmly plastered on his face, Tony jumped back up on stage, flicked his tongue and wiggled his eyebrows at her for everybody to see.

“Doesn't she look great? Oh, the things I wanna to do to her when that dress comes off later on…”

Under the crowd's whooping enthusiasm, Pepper hid her beet-red face inside both palms for a moment, but her shoulders shook with laughter. When she focused back on her husband, Tony mouthed another kiss into her direction and scratched his goatee with his hand. He conspiratorially leaned forward and looked over the endless rows of tables.

“Sorry hun, I know you've already been a bit edgy today, so I'm just trying to be sweet now. I mean, no offense, but this is a big ego boosting thing for me here, so I may be even better in the sack for the next hours...” Over the roaring laughter resounding through the ballroom, Tony hastened to make amends. “And now she’s looking at me like ‘Oh my god, you’re such a prick, when are you gonna stop?’”

Tony then told everybody to have a good time and enjoy themselves before he handed the mic back to a technician, and hopped off stage.  
  
True to agenda, speeches were held on behalf of the newlyweds. Happy Hogan hobbled onto the stage with the help of James Rhodes and expressed in a few words how much he was grateful fate meant it well with Tony, whom he had already written off as a hopeless case. People could see Happy was still marked by the aftermath of his serious injuries as his shaking fingers folded the paper and slipped it into the breast pocket of his tuxedo with difficulty.

He then looked at his employer in a rare bout of sentiment.  
“Bossman, this is the beginning of a new era. Thanks to you, I’m still around and able to live through it, with Pepper and with you.”  
Tony sprang up from his chair, helped him down the stairs and engulfed him in a bear hug. No one but Happy saw his tears that moment.

When the applause had died down and they resumed their seats, James Rhodes cleared his throat and started speaking about the first time he had met Tony at MIT. The Lieutenant Colonel spoke about how women had been like engine parts to the genius greenhorn even way back then – intriguing and alluring. Then Rhodey spun into the tale of how Pepper Potts entered Tony’s life and managed to bring him into line.

As laughs were on his side, Rhodey also finished his speech on an emotional note. “Pepper - you were, are, and always will be the heart of Tony’s personal engine; keep on going strong. Tony - we all know how much you love living in the fast lane, but remember to keep an eye out for the best copilot you could wish for. For now, and for the rest of your lives.”

The bridal couple stood up as he returned to their table under ongoing applause and hugged him with heartfelt thanks. After a couple more speeches from the Stark Industries' management board and several divisions, the first course of luxurious dinner got served. Tony and Pepper had decided on a classic but light menu with hors d’oeuvres that got served throughout the evening, roasted tomato soup as first course, and an entrée that featured filet Mignon with truffles.

In between courses, several more speeches were held, and the live band “The Prenups” accompanied the wedding party throughout the evening. After the many dishes of the main courses had been cleared up, Tony dabbed the napkin one last time over his mouth and placed it aside. With a knowing glance at his wife, he found Pepper taking a final sip of her water before she, too, nodded at him and rose.  
  
“Please don't step on my dress. It's a nightmare that's been haunting me for weeks.”  
Tony chuckled as he led her over to where the designated dancing area lay empty.  
“If anything, we'll just wing this thing as a mean Naked Gun persiflage extraordinaire.”

The ballroom seemed to go a little quieter as the bridal arrived at the center of the floor. There, the customized monograms of their names were screened in big, bold letters. With a smooth movement, Pepper nestled up to Tony's chest. The faint feel of the ARC soothed her enough to forget the almost five-hundred pairs of eyes on both of them. When the first chords of their wedding dance song reverberated through the vast location, she felt Tony's fingers grip hers a tad bit tighter.

His eyes were so close as he regarded her with awe; almost like during their dance at the Fireman’s charity, way back.

 _'I was living for a dream,_  
_loving for a moment_  
_Taking on the world,_  
_that was just my style_  
_Now I look into your eyes,_  
_I can see forever_  
_The search is over,_  
_you were with me all the while'_

“Still convinced this song was the best choice regarding all circumstances?”  
Pepper's voice was too quiet for their spectators, but Tony gave her a dazzling grin.  
“Most definitely, Mrs. Stark. Not too mushy-gushy, but very down-to-earth. And true.”

 _'You followed me through changes,_  
_and patiently you'd wait_  
_Till I came to my senses,_  
_through some miracle of fate'_

She let him gently sway her and glimpsed around. Except for the candles on the tables and a few flashing lights from mobile phone cameras, everything was dark around them as they danced on in the blueish spotlight, slow and sensuous.

 _'Now at last I hold you,_  
_now all is said and done_  
_The search has come full circle,_  
_our destinies are one_  
_So if you ever loved me,_  
_show me that you give a damn_  
_You'll know for certain the man I really am'_

Pepper bit her lip as she remembered all of their trials and tribulations over the years, up to the point of the present, and felt a deeply rooted sense of gratitude and belonging. The delicate organza lace of her long-sleeved bolero-jacket brushed against Tony's fingers.

“I love you.”  
His immediate response was a smoldering look as he pulled her even closer.  
Tony kissed her in mid-dance, and still managed not to tear the hemline of her wedding dress.

 _'When I touched your hand,_  
_I could hear you whisper_  
_The search is over,_  
_love was right before my eyes'_

A steady crescendo of applause followed them as they ended their dance and gave way to their guests, just as the band began to play again.

The dance floor remained well-filled until around 9PM, when it was time for the traditional wedding cake. As the six feet tall, eight-tier creation of cream, icing and sugary decorations got wheeled in, a gasp went through the rows. When Pepper spotted the top tier, she had to laugh out loud. Next to the little marzipan bride stood a miniature Iron Man figure in a tuxedo. Tony encircled her waist from behind, followed her line of view, and gave a wicked grin.

“Hey, just fair. You chose the bottom, I chose the top.”  
Her left hand came up to stroke his cheek and he nuzzled into her palm.  
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Lead the way, Iron Man, and get the knife.”

They posed for obligatory pictures before they dug into the thick cream layers. While Tony managed to feed her the first part of their slice without problems, Pepper’s fork all but slipped between her nervous fingers and caused the majority of the portion to land anywhere but Tony’s mouth. Embarrassed she covered her face as her husband stood, chin dripping with frosting, and looked down his stained tuxedo jacket with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

He was the first to break out in a resounding belly laugh and wiped his goatee with the back of his hand. As he turned towards the hooting crowd, Tony spread his arms wide. “She cannot seem to get me out of this thing fast enough, you guys!” Pepper collected herself and started to dab at him with a napkin. Tony haltered her motions, threw the napkin aside and, in one swift motion, dipped her in a Hollywood-worthy embrace and kissed the embarrassment away from her face.

Her second try minutes later worked out just fine.

***

Around midnight, Tony mysteriously disappeared from where he had never strayed far from Pepper’s side the whole evening.

The redhead, who had been deeply engrossed in a conversation with some fellow SI managers, turned and gave each person at her table a questioning look. Happy and Rhodey shrugged behind their long drinks, while Bambi Arbogast and Dwight Johnson shook their heads and looked around as well. The lighting in the ballroom then started to change and illuminated the stage as center of attention.

“What’s going on?”

Before anybody had an answer for the bride, the missing billionaire reappeared on stage with several unknown band members in tow. They started to build up their arrangements in silence, while Tony in turn busied himself with his microphone and calm, mild interest. Once he had it switched on and saw the band was ready, Stark turned to face the hall.

“Okay folks, been a great evening so far; think the Missus agrees as well - doesn’t she?”  
He paused for emphasis, and Pepper gave him a thumbs up from down below.  
Tony chuckled in return and gazed around the many rows of tables.

“…but you see, there’s one thing that still needs to happen, cause I promised, and I’m a man of my word. Honey – I know how much you like the following song, but it’s become redundant for you as of today. Anyways, maybe the lady in charge of this stage has an idea about that one – ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to the amazing Mrs. Shawn Carter, better known to most of you as Be-yon-ce!”

People started to whoop and cheer as the singer in question appeared on stage.

She greeted Tony with a friendly hug and a kiss on the cheek before she addressed her audience. The billionaire went back to his table as the band started to play the first few chords. The one of a kind, live gig version of ‘Single Ladies’ they performed was most definitely the highlight of the night; and a certain redhead torn between kissing Tony senseless, or slapping him on top of his head for revealing her guilty pleasure song.

When she looked at the man by her side, Pepper Stark threw all of her cautions to the wind, got up from her chair and pulled her husband into a dance right in front of the stage. At the request of Beyonce, the audience also got up and joined the couple in a large semi circle; dancing, clapping and singing along. Band and singer stayed for another two encores, and for the rest of the night, people lived up the dance floor.

The bridal couple had to take countless turns as other guests cut in to have a dance with each of them.

***

Late that night, Pepper's tired feet meandered through the crowd. From afar, she saw her spouse who had a blast upon going through the motions of a smooth tap dance-inspired interlude, together with five respectable managers from R&D. Full of love and contentment she watched him for a while, before her eyes wandered through the vast ballroom.

She took in the many blurred faces of their guests, before she also caught a glimpse of something vaguely familiar.

Puzzled, Pepper strained to get a closer look. Once she had taken her eyes off the very back of the ballroom’s doorway, it was gone. When the big, warm hands of her husband wormed their way around her waist moments later, Pepper palmed his neck, pulled his ear closer to her mouth, and whispered her suspicions to him.

“You sure? Where?”

In an instant, Tony was up on his toes and craned his neck to look over the masses of dancing people around them. When he also came up empty, she waved him off with a smile and a kiss; put her arms around his neck and pulled him close to her body.

“Never mind, darling. Maybe I was wrong. Dance with me?”

While Tony allowed himself to get sidetracked by her swaying hips, Pepper knew deep down in her heart that a certain pair of astute, hazel eyes could only belong to one person. A person, who very well knew what Tony and Pepper meant by choosing their wedding venue. The fact that he had been there to give them his blessings was the most precious gift she received on that wonderful night, late in August.

 

~epilogue~

  
Tyrrhenian Sea, September 2011

  
“Have you ever _been_ on such a thing?! God, I don’t wanna die yet; I just got married, for heaven’s sake!”

Pepper’s shrill voice cut through the sounds of the Jet Ski engines as she sat behind her husband, dressed in bikini and life-jacket, and clutched panicky arms around his midriff. Tony, also clad in a life-jacket, adjusted his aviator sunglasses and turned to yell over his shoulder.

“Hey, Mrs. Stark, cut me a break here! I’m Iron Man – I _know_ speed, okay?”

For emphasis, he revved the engine of the mighty Kawasaki Jet Ski and performed a half spin before he let the machine dash through the blue water of the ocean. The couple had told the press their honeymoon would take them to the Maldives, in order to steer them as far away from their actual destination as possible. Instead they had checked in the Cipriani in Venice, upon Tony’s wish, for the first two days, but left for Naples before their secret stay might have gotten public.

There, they enjoyed the pleasures of a small, low-priced hotel with only four rooms which belonged to an elder Italian couple. They had never heard, nor knew about the VIP status of the newlyweds, and the fact their English was as rough as Tony’s Italian made it all the more adorable and relaxing. Pepper had enjoyed the break from all the pomp and luxury and found her husband to be coping fairly well, too, with only a mobile version of Jarvis to keep him updated from time to time.

After ten days, Tony surprised his wife by checking out of their hotel and renting a Jet Ski. His plan worked when both of them headed out into the vastness of the Tyrrhenian Sea, and their destination point loomed up in the distance. It was a lone, luxury sailing yacht, anchoring peacefully amidst the ocean. Upon nearing the vessel, Pepper and Tony made out three silhouettes on deck.

Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle, decked out in swimwear and sunglasses, stood and watched their guests approaching.  
In the back, Alfred Pennyworth was busy rummaging around to set a table for four.

 

**End of part III**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is it, the final chapter. I never thought I'd get to a point where this would make it out into the open, let alone get any views or comments at all - once more, all of you surprised me in the most positive way! So this huge, huge thank you goes out to all of you; for reading and taking the time to come along this meta universe - I really appreciate the consideration :-)
> 
> Lyrics taken from Survivor's 'The Search Is Over' (1985)
> 
> PS. A tetralogy wouldn't be complete without what? That's right, a part IV..


End file.
